own
people out o' joint."

He chuckled.

"She's as sweet as them rose geraniums of Prue's and just as sightly
looking. Did you ever notice how that black hair of hers sort of
curls about her ears, and them ears like little, tiny seashells ye
pick up 'long shore? Them curls just lays against her neck that
pretty! I swan! I don't see how the young fellers kept their hands
off her where she come from. Do you?"

"Why, you old Don Juan!" exclaimed Tunis, grinning. "Ain't you
ashamed of yourself?"

"Me? Aha! I've come to that point of age and experience, Tunis,
where whatever I say about the female sect can't be misconstrued.
That's where I have the advantage of you."

"Uh-huh!" agreed Tunis, nodding.

"Now, if you begun raving about that gal's black hair--An' come to
think of it, Tunis, her mother, Sarah Honey's hair was near 'bout
red. Funny, ain't it?"

"The Bostwicks must have been dark people," said Tunis evenly.

But he remembered in a flash the "fool's gold" which had adorned in
rich profusion the head of the girl in the lace department of Hoskin
& Marl's.

"Well, the Honeys warn't. None I ever see, leastways," announced
Cap'n Ira. "Howsomever, Ida May fits her mother's maiden name in
disposition, if ever a gal did. She's pure honey, Tunis; right from
the comb! And she takes to everything around the house that handy."

Prudence was equally enthusiastic. And Tunis Latham could see for
himself many things which marked the regime of the newcomer at the
Ball homestead as one of vast improvement over that past regime of
the old couple, who had been forced to manage of late in ways which
troubled their orderly souls.

"Catch as catch can," was Cap'n Ball's way of expressing the
condition of the household and other affairs before the advent of
Ida May. Now matters were already getting to be "shipshape," and no
observer could fail to note the increased comfort enjoyed by Cap'n
Ira and Prudence.

Nor need Tunis feel anxious, either, regarding the girl's state of
mind or body. She was so blithe and cheerful that he could scarcely
recall the picture of that girl who had waited upon him in the cheap
restaurant on Scollay Square. Here was a transformation indeed!

Nor had Ida May's activities been confined wholly to the house and
the old folks' comfort. He noted that the wire fence of the chicken
run was handily repaired; that Aunt Prue's few languishing flowers
had been weeded; and that one end of the garden was