him, chair and all, to one of the back rooms. Soon his cries ceased,
and tender-hearted Mousie stole after him. Returning she said, with
her low laugh, "He'll be good now for a while; he's sound asleep."

And so passed the last day in our city rooms. Except as wife and
children were there, they had never appeared very homelike to me,
and now they looked bare and comfortless indeed. The children
gloated over their appearance, for it meant novelty to them. "The
old camp is about broken up," Merton remarked, with the air of a
veteran. But my wife sighed more than once.

"What troubles you, Winifred?"

"Robert, the children were born here, and here I've watched over
them in sickness and health so many days and nights."

"Well, my dear, the prospects are that in our new home you will not
have to watch over them in sickness very much. Better still, you
will not have to be so constantly on your guard against contagions
that harm the soul as well as the body. I was told that there are
rattle-snakes on Schunemunk, but greater dangers for Winnie and
Merton lurk in this street--yes, in this very house;" and I exulted
over the thought that we were about to bid Melissa Daggett a final
good-by.

"Oh, I know. I'm glad; but then--"

"But then a woman's heart takes root in any place where she has
loved and suffered. That tendency makes it all the more certain that
you'll love your new home."