shallowing, and now may be walked across at low water,
"Woods, and things in them to--to TALK to you!"
"Why, yes. It was the little brook, you know, after the squirrel, that told me about being dead, and--"
"Yes, yes; but never mind, dear, now," stammered the woman, rising hurriedly to her feet--the boy was a little wild, after all, she thought. "You--you should go to bed. Haven't you a--a bag, or--or anything?"
"No, ma'am; we left it," smiled David apologetically. "You see, we had so much in it that it got too heavy to carry. So we did n't bring it."
"So much in it you didn't bring it, indeed!" repeated Mrs. Holly, under her breath, throwing up her hands with a gesture of despair. "Boy, what are you, anyway?"
It was not meant for a question, but, to the woman's surprise, the boy answered, frankly, simply:--
"Father says that I'm one little instrument in the great Orchestra of Life, and that I must see to it that I'm always in tune, and don't drag or hit false notes."
"My land!" breathed the woman, dropping back in her chair, her eyes fixed on the boy. Then, with an effort, she got to her feet. "Come, you must go to bed," she stammered. "I'm sure bed is--is the best place you. I think I can find what--what you need," she finished feebly.
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