oat tellin'
who he was an' where he was going an' knowed the doctor would have a
eye on him when he got as fur as Smithville. As fer the rest of the
trip, I wasn't so certain. The only person I knowed in the city was
Pete Jenkins, an' if there was one man in the world I didn't have
no use fer, it was Pete. But when I don't like folks I try to do
somethin' nice fer 'em. Seems like that's the only way I kin weed
out my meanness. So I jes' sez to Jim, 'You keep on astin' till you
git to No. 6 Injun House, an' then you ast fer Pete Jenkins. You
tell him,' sez I, 'you are Hiram Wiggs's boy, an' as long as he done
so much harm to yer pa, mebbe he'd be glad to do a good turn by
you, an' keep you an' the hoss fer the night, till yer ma comes fer
you.' Well, Jim started off, lookin' mighty little settin' up on
that big hoss, an' I waved my apron long as I could; then I hid
behin' a tree to keep him from seein' me cry. He rode all that day,
an' 'bout sundown he come to Dr. White's. Pore little feller, he was
so tired an' stiff he couldn't hardly walk, but he tied the hoss to
the post an' went 'round to the back door an' knocked real easy.
Mrs. White come to the door an' sez, real cross, 'No, doctor ain't
here,' an' slammed it shut agin. I ain't meanin' to blame her; mebbe
her bread was in the oven, or her baby crying or somethin', but
seems to me I couldn't have treated a dog that a-way!

"Pore Jim, he dragged out to the road agin, an' set there beside the
hoss, not knowin' what to do nex'. Night was a-comin' on, he hadn't
had no supper, an' he was dead beat. By an' by he went to sleep, an'
didn't know nothin' till somebody shuck his shoulder an' sez, 'Git
up from here! What you doin' sleepin' here in the road?' Then he
went stumblin' 'long, with somebody holdin' his arm, an' he was took
into a big, bright room, an' the doctor was lookin' at him an'
astin' him questions. An' Jim said he never did know what he
answered, but it must 'a' been right, fer the doctor grabbed holt of
his hand, an' sez: 'Bless my soul! It's little Jimmy Wiggs, all the
way from Curryville!'

"Then they give him his supper, an' Mrs. White sez: 'Where'll he
sleep at, Doctor? There ain't no spare bed.' Then Jim sez the doctor
frowned like ever'thin', an' sez: 'Sleep? Why, he'll sleep in the
bed with my boys, an' they orter be proud to have sech a plucky
bedfeller!'

"Jim never did fergit them words; they meant a good deal more to him
than his supper.