us thing to live near
an English fort.

CHAPTER VIII

THE SHOEMAKER'S DAUGHTER

The shoemaker was the smallest man Faith had ever seen. She thought to
herself that she was glad he was not an American. When he stood up to
speak to Mrs. Scott Faith remembered a picture in one of her mother's
books of an orang-outang. For the shoemaker's hair was coarse and
black, and seemed to stand up all over his small head, and his face
was nearly covered by a stubbly black beard. His arms were long, and
he did not stand erect. His eyes were small and did not seem to see
the person to whom he was speaking.

But he greeted his customers pleasantly, and as Faith sat on a little
stool near his bench waiting for her aunt's return, he told her that
he had a little daughter about her own age, but that she was not very
well.

"Perhaps your aunt will let you come and see her some day?" he said.

"I'll ask her," replied Faith, and before they had time for any
further conversation the door opened and a tall man in a scarlet coat,
deerskin trousers and high boots entered the shop.

"Any news?" he asked sharply.

"No, captain. Nothing at all," replied the shoemaker.

"You're not worth your salt, Andy," declared the officer. "I'll wager
this small maid here would have quicker ears for news."

Faith wished that she could run away, but did not dare to move.

"Well, another summer we'll put the old fort in order and have a
garrison that will be worth while. Now, what about my riding boots?"
he added, and after a little talk the officer departed.

It was not long before Mrs. Scott called for her little niece and the
two started for home.

Faith told her aunt what the shoemaker had said about his little girl,
and noticed that Aunt Prissy's face was rather grave and troubled.

"Do I have to go, Aunt Prissy?" she asked.

"We'll see, my dear. But now we must hurry home, and sew on the new
dresses," replied Aunt Prissy, and for a few moments they walked on in
silence.

Faith could hear the musical sound of the falls, and was reminded of
the dancing mill-stream, of the silver fox and of her own dear
"Bounce." Every hour since her arrival at Aunt Prissy's had been so
filled with new and strange happenings that the little girl had not
had time to be lonely.

"What is the name of the shoemaker's little girl, Aunt Prissy?" she
asked, as they came in sight of home, with Donald and Philip, closely
followed by "Scotchie," coming to me