and made no response to the greeting which was, upon the whole,
a rather unnecessary one, as Mr. Stamps had been hanging about the
post-office through the whole day, and had only wended his way homeward a
few hours before.

"Want anything?" he enquired.

Mr. Stamps turned his hat around in his hands hurriedly.

"No, I don't want nothin', Tom," he said. Then, after a pause, he added,
very softly:

"I jest thought I'd step in."

"Where are you going?" asked Tom.

The hat was turned round again.

"Whar wus I a-gwine?" deprecatingly. "Whar? Oh! I--I was a-gwine--I was
a-gwine to Marthy's, I guess."

"You're pretty late," remarked Tom; "better lose no time; it's a pretty
bad road between here and there."

"So 'tis," replied Mr. Stamps, apparently struck with the originality of
the suggestion. "So 'tis!" He appeared to reflect deeply for a few
seconds, but suddenly his eyes began to wander across the room and rested
finally upon the corner in which the cradle stood. He jerked his head
towards it.

"It's thar, is it?" he enquired.

"Yes, she's thar," Tom answered, rather crustily. "What of it?"

"Oh! nothin', nothin', Tom, only it's kinder curi's--kinder curi's."

"Well," said Tom, "I've not begun to look at it in that light yet
myself."

"Hain't ye, now?" softly. "Hain't ye, Tom?"

Then a faint little chuckle broke from him--not an intrusive chuckle,
quite the contrary; a deprecatory and inadvertent sort of chuckle.

"That ain't me," he ventured, inoffensively. "I've been a-thinkin' it was
curi's all along."

"That ain't going to hurt anybody," responded Tom.

"Lord, no!" quite in a hurry. "Lord, no! 'tain't likely; but it kinder
int'rusted me--int'rusted me, findin' out what I did."

And he ended with a gently suggestive cough.

Tom thrust his hands deeper into his pockets and covered as large an area
of floor with his legs as was possible without upsetting Mr. Stamps's
chair and at the same time that stealthy little man himself.

"Oh! found out!" he replied, "Found out h----"

He checked himself with much suddenness, glancing at the cradle as he did
so.

"What did you find out?" he demanded, unceremoniously, and with manifest
contempt. "Let's hear."

Mr. Stamps coughed again.

"'Twan't much, mebbe," he replied, cautiously, "'n' then again, mebbe
'twas. It was kinder int'rusting, though. That--that thar was a good
prayer o' his'n, warn't it?"

"Yes," admitted Tom, rather blusteringly. "I da