he was called down by the
guests about the steam-pipes making a racket, he'd probably prefer to go
down to the village and take Doctor Barnes' place washing dishes at the
station. That wouldn't call for any particular mildness.

But he settled it by appearing himself. He came across the snow from the
direction of Mount Hope, and he had a pair of skees over his shoulder.
(At that time I didn't even know the name of the things, but I learned
enough about them later.) I must say he looked very well beside Mr.
Dick, who wasn't very large, anyhow, and who hadn't had time to put on
his collar, and Mr. Sam, who's always thin and sallow and never takes a
step he doesn't have to.

I let him in, and when he saw us all there he started and hesitated.

"Come in, Pierce," Mr. Sam said. "We've just been talking about you."

He came in, but he didn't look very comfortable.

"What have you decided to do with me?" he asked. "Put me under
restraint?"

He was unbuttoning his sweater, and now he took out two of the smallest
rabbits I ever saw and held them up by the ears. Miss Patty gave a
little cry and took them, cuddling them in her lap.

"They're starving and almost frozen, poor little devils," he said. "I
found them near where I shot the mother last night, Minnie, and by way
of atonement I'm going to adopt them."

Well, although the minute before they'd all been wishing they'd never
seen him, they pretty nearly ate him up. Miss Patty held the rabbits, so
we all had turns at feeding them warm milk with a teaspoon and patting
their pink noses. When it came Mr. Pierce's turn they were about full
up, so he curled his big body on the floor at Miss Patty's feet and
talked to the rabbits and looked at her. He had one of those faces
that's got every emotion marked on it as clear as a barometer--when he
was mad his face was mad all over, and when he was pleased he glowed to
the tips of his ears. And he was pleased that morning.

But, of course, he had to be set right about the sanatorium, and Mr. Sam
began it. Mr. Pierce listened, sitting on the floor and looking puzzled
and more and more unhappy. Finally he got up and drew a long breath.

"Exactly," he agreed. "I know you are all right and I'm wrong--according
to your way of thinking. But if these people want to be well, why should
I encourage them to do the wrong thing? They eat too much, they don't
exercise"--he turned to Mr. Van Alstyne.

"Why, do you know, I asked a half doze