tyke like him every day. His chatter would be great company while you are gone. Blood soon can be purified with right food and baths, and as for Snap, I meant to get a bulldog, but possibly Snap will serve just as well. All I ask of a dog is to bark at the right time. I'll do the rest. Would you like to come and be my boy, Billy?"
Billy leaned against Mrs. Comstock, reached his arms around her neck and gripped her with all his puny might. "You can whip me all you want to," he said. "I won't make a sound."
Mrs. Comstock held him closely and her hard face was softening, of that there could not be a doubt.
"Now, why would any one whip a nice little boy like you?" she asked wonderingly.
"She"—Billy from his refuge waved toward Margaret—"she was going to whip me 'cause her cats fought when I tied their tails together and hung them over the line to dry. How did I know her old cats would fight?"
Mrs. Comstock began to laugh suddenly, and try as she would she could not stop as soon as she desired. Billy studied her.
"Have you got turkeys?" he demanded.
"Yes, flocks of them," said Mrs. Comstock, vainly struggling to suppress her mirth, and settle her face in its accustomed lines.
"Are their tails fast?" demanded Billy.
"Why, I think so," marvelled Mrs. Comstock.
"Hers ain't!" said Billy with the wave toward Margaret that was becoming familiar. "Her turkey pulled,
