to do anything, to the Lord. And yet I find that is so often done, and I'm
afraid it's the case now."

When they reached Fraser's house they found great excitement within. Men
and women were moving about the kitchen and sitting-room trying to help,
and yet always getting into one another's way. Midnight was taken to the
barn, Dan was led into the kitchen to get warm, while the parson went at
once to the room where Tim was lying.

Dan shrank back in a corner, for he felt much abashed at the sight of so
many strangers. He wanted to be alone--to think about what the parson had
said coming along the road. And so Fraser was a sponger, and a sucker too,
getting so many good things and giving nothing back. It was mean, and yet
what was he himself but a sponger? What was he doing for Nellie and Parson
John for what they were doing for him? They gave him a comfortable home,
fed, clothed, and taught him, and he was doing nothing to pay them back.
How disgusted his father would be if he only knew about it.

For the life of him Dan could not have expressed these feelings to anyone.
He only knew that they ran through his mind like lightning, making him
feel very miserable. His cheeks flushed, and a slight sigh escaped his
lips as he sat crouched there in the corner with one small hand supporting
his chin. No one heeded him, for all were too much excited over the
accident to take any notice of a little boy.

"I said that horse would be the death of him," he heard a woman exclaim.
"Tim's too old a man to drive such a beast as that."

"Oh, the beast's all right," an old man slowly replied, "but it was put to
a wrong use, that's where the trouble came."