re was something in the pale motherly face that touched the warm
hearts under the round jackets.

Seeing that they considered it an honor, Mrs. Jo gave it to the one who
had earned it, and nobody grumbled when she put her arm on Dan's broad
shoulder, saying, with a look that made him color up with pride and
pleasure,

"He found the children; so I think he must help me up."

Dan felt richly rewarded for his evening's work, not only that he was
chosen from all the rest to go proudly up bearing the lamp, but because
Mrs. Jo said heartily, "Good-night, my boy! God bless you!" as he left
her at her door.

"I wish I was your boy," said Dan, who felt as if danger and trouble had
somehow brought him nearer than ever to her.

"You shall be my oldest son," and she sealed her promise with a kiss
that made Dan hers entirely.

Little Rob was all right next day, but Nan had a headache, and lay on
Mother Bhaer's sofa with cold-cream upon her scratched face. Her remorse
was quite gone, and she evidently thought being lost rather a fine
amusement. Mrs. Jo was not pleased with this state of things, and had no
desire to have her children led from the paths of virtue, or her pupils
lying round loose in huckleberry fields. So she talked soberly to Nan,
and tried to impress upon her mind the difference between liberty and
license, telling several tales to enforce her lecture. She had not
decided how to punish Nan, but one of these stories suggested a way, and
as Mrs. Jo liked odd penalties, she tried it.

"All children run away," pleaded Nan, as if it was as natural and
necessary a thing as measles or hooping cough.

"Not all, and some who do run away don't get found again," answered Mrs.
Jo.

"Didn't you do it yourself?" asked Nan, whose keen little eyes saw some
traces of a kindred spirit in the serious lady who was sewing so morally
before her.

Mrs. Jo laughed, and owned that she did.

"Tell about it," demanded Nan, feeling that she was getting the upper
hand in the discussion.

Mrs. Jo saw that, and sobered down at once, saying, with a remorseful
shake of the head,

"I did it a good many times, and led my poor mother rather a hard life
with my pranks, till she cured me."

"How?" and Nan sat up with a face full of interest.

"I had a new pair of shoes once, and wanted to show them; so, though I
was told not to leave the garden, I ran away and was wandering about all
day. It was in the city, and why I wasn't killed I d