n the rain under the tent roof of the
umbrella, it was rather pitiful.

"Please, sir," said the child, "are you Captain Cyrus Whittaker?"

"Yup! That's me. You've guessed it the first time."

"Yes, sir. I've got a letter for you. It's pinned inside my dress. If
you could hold this umbrella maybe I could get it out."

She extended the big umbrella at arm's length, holding it with both
hands. Captain Cy woke up.

"Good land!" he exclaimed, "what am I thinkin' of? You're soakin' wet
through, ain't you?"

"I guess I'm pretty wet. It's a long ways from the depot, and I tried to
come across the fields, because a boy said it was nearer, and the bushes
were--"

"Across the FIELDS? Have you walked all the way from the depot?"

"Yes, sir. The man said it was a quarter to ride, and auntie said I must
be careful of my money because--"

"By the big dipper! Come in! Come in out of that this minute!"

He sprang down the steps, furled the umbrella, seized her by the arm and
led her into the house, through the parlor and into the sitting room,
where the fire crackled invitingly. He could feel that the dress sleeve
under his hand was wet through, and the worn boots and darned stockings
he could see were soaked likewise.

"There!" he cried. "Set down in that chair. Put your feet up on that
h'ath. Sakes alive! Your folks ought to know better than to let you stir
out this weather, let alone walkin' a mile--and no rubbers! Them shoes
ought to come off this minute, I s'pose. Take 'em off. You can dry your
stockings better that way. Off with 'em!"

"Yes, sir," said the child, stooping to unbutton the shoes. Her
wet fingers were blue. It can be cold in our village, even in early
September, when there is an easterly storm. Unbuttoning the shoes was
slow work.

"Here, let me help you!" commanded the captain, getting down on one knee
and taking a foot in his lap. "Tut! tut! tut! you're wet! Been some
time sence I fussed with button boots; lace or long-legged cowhides come
handier. Never wore cowhides, did you?"

"No, sir."

"I s'pose not. I used to when I was little. Remember the first pair I
had. Copper toes on 'em--whew! The copper was blacked over when they
come out of the store and that wouldn't do, so we used to kick a stone
wall till they brightened up. There! there she comes. Humph! stockin's
soaked, too. Wish I had some dry ones to lend you. Might give you a pair
of mine, but they'd be too scant fore and aft and too broa