u think we must go home?" queried Darby anxiously. "You see,
when Mr. Joe and Mrs. Moll overtook us we were on our way, as I told
you, to the Happy Land--we were quite close to it, in fact. Would it be
right to turn back now?" the little lad asked, fixing his clear gray
eyes seriously on the face of the dwarf. "Wouldn't we be like
somebody--I forget who--that put his hand to the plough and looked back?
Didn't Jesus say that it's wrong of any one to do that?"

"Ay, sonny, our blessed Lord does say that 'no man, having put his hand
to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God;' and, of
course, we oughtn't to do it. But we must first make sure that we've put
our hands upon the right plough, that it's pointed in the proper
direction in the very field the great Husbandman wants us to turn over.
Then we can forge right ahead, cutting the furrow clean and straight, no
matter how stony the soil, or how stiff we find the ground."

"I _think_ I understand what you mean," said Darby slowly. "You are
trying to tell me as nicely as you can that we haven't got our plough
pointed in the right direction. Is that it, Mr. Bambo?"

"That's it, deary, and the sooner you get it turned about the better,"
replied the dwarf briskly. "Your field's waiting for you at Firgrove, so
back there you and missy must go as soon as ever you can give Joe and
Moll the slip. My, won't the ladies be in a fine way! By this time, I
expect, they'll have scoured the country, and be getting the canal
dragged in search of you both."

"Isn't we goin' to the Happy Land at all, then?" asked Joan, in a tone
of glad relief.

She had been listening to the talk between Bambo and her brother in
somewhat of a puzzle as to their meaning. She had, however, gathered the
gist of their remarks, and is that not about all that is worth gathering
of most conversations?

"Wait a little," whispered Darby, gently prodding her behind the dwarf's
back. "Don't be in such a hurry. We're coming to that."

"'Cause if we isn't," continued Joan the irrepressible, "I's werry,
werry glad. I doesn't know nuffin' 'bout the Happy Land--nuffin' much,
anyway, 'cept what nurse's hymn says--but I knows Firgrove, and I love
Auntie Alice, and the pussies, and baby when he's not cryin'. They's
quite 'nuff for me--just now at least," she added as an after-thought.
"And I wants to go back to Miss Carolina and the rest of my dear, sweet
dollies. Darby wouldn't let me bring none of