she considered the serious problem. There was no feeling of not being
wanted in the boy's heart then. As he looked up at her he felt already
renewed hope and quickening interest.

Then mother's face brightened, in a way that mother faces do, and the
boy's eyes began to shine in eager anticipation. What should he do?
Why mother knew the very thing of course. It was the best--the very
best--the most interesting thing in all the world for a boy to do. He
should build a house for the little girl who lived next door.

Out under the lilac bushes he should build it, in a pretty corner of
the yard, where mother, from her window, every now and then, could
look out to see how well he was doing and help, perhaps, with careful
suggestions. Mother herself would ask the carpenter man for some
clean, new boards, some shingles and some nails. And it would all be a
secret, between just mother and the boy, until the house was finished
and ready and then he should go and bring the little girl and they
would see how surprised and glad she would be.

It was wondrous magic those mothers worked in the Yesterdays. In a
twinkle, for the boy who could find nothing to do, the world was
changed. In a twinkle, there was nothing in all the world worth doing
save this one thing--to build a house for the little girl next door.

With might and main he planned and toiled and toiled and planned;
building and rebuilding and rebuilding yet again. He cut his fingers
and pounded his thumb and stuck his hands full of slivers and minded
it not at all so absorbed was he in this best of all Occupations.

But keep it secret! First there was father's smiling face close beside