hildhood, could have felt more exulting gladness
than he, as he shoved his boat from the bank and pushed up the shining
stream in the face of the sun.

Benedict and Harry had not been idle during his absence. A deer had
been shot and dressed; trout had been caught and saved alive; a cave had
been dug for the preservation of vegetables; and when Jim shouted, far
down the stream, to announce his approach, there were three happy
persons on shore, waiting to welcome him--Turk being the third, and
apparently oblivious of the fact that he was not as much a human being
as any of the party. Turk added the "tiger" to Harry's three cheers, and
Jim was as glad as a boy when his boat touched the shore, and he
received the affectionate greetings of the party.

A choice meal was nearly in readiness for him, but not a mouthful would
he taste until he had unfolded his treasures, and displayed to the
astonished eyes of Mr. Benedict and the lad the comfortable clothing he
had brought for them.

"Take 'em to Number Ten and put 'em on," said Jim. "I'm a goin' to eat
with big folks to-day, if clo'es can make 'em. Them's yer stockin's and
them's yer boots, and them's yer indigoes and them's yer clo'es."

Jim's idea of the word "indigoes" was, that it drew its meaning partly
from the color of the articles designated, and partly from their office.
They were blue undergoes--in other words, blue flannel shirts.

Jim sat down and waited. He saw that, while Harry was hilarious over his
good fortune, Mr. Benedict was very silent and humble. It was twenty
minutes before Harry reappeared; and when he came bounding toward Jim,
even Turk did not know him. Jim embraced him, and could not help feeling
that he had acquired a certain amount of property in the lad.

When Mr. Benedict came forth from the little cabin, and found Jim
chaffing and petting his boy, he was much embarrassed. He could not
speak, but walked directly past the pair, and went out upon the bank of
the river, with his eyes averted.

Jim comprehended it all. Leaving Harry, he went up to his guest, and
placed his hand upon his shoulder. "Will ye furgive me, Mr. Benedict? I
didn't go fur to make it hard fur ye."

"Jim," said Mr. Benedict, struggling to retain his composure, "I can
never repay your overwhelming kindness, and the fact oppresses me."

"Well," said Jim, "I s'pose I don't make 'lowance enough fur the
difference in folks. Ye think ye oughter pay fur this sort o' thing, a