ce of their
seriousness of a few moments before on their faces.

They were going so fast that they ran right into a flock of geese that
were coming up the lane. They were driven by a little boy called Tommy,
the son of one of Mr. Wood's farm laborers, and they were chattering and
gabbling, and seemed very angry. "What's all this about?" said Mr.
Harry, stopping and looking at the boy. "What's the matter with your
feathered charges, Tommy, my lad?"

"If it's the geese you mean," said the boy, half crying and looking very
much put out, "it's all them nasty potatoes. They won't keep away from
them."

"So the potatoes chase the geese, do they," said Mr. Maxwell, teasingly.

"No, no," said the child, pettishly; "Mr. Wood he sets me to watch the
geese, and they runs in among the buckwheat and the potatoes, and I
tries to drive them out, and they doesn't want to come, and,"
shamefacedly, "I has to switch their feet, and I hates to do it, 'cause
I'm a Band of Mercy boy."

"Tommy, my son," said Mr. Maxwell, solemnly, "you will go right to
heaven when you die, and your geese will go with you."

"Hush, hush," said Miss Laura; "don't tease him," and putting her arm on
the child's shoulder, she said, "You are a good boy, Tommy, not to want
to hurt the geese. Let me see your switch, dear."

He showed her a little stick he had in his hand, and she said, "I don't
think you could hurt them much with that, and if they will be naughty
and steal the potatoes, you have to drive them out. Take some of my
pears and eat them, and you will forget your trouble." The child took
the fruit, and Miss Laura and the two young men went on their way,
smiling, and looking over their shoulders at Tommy, who stood in the
lane, devouring his pears and keeping one eye on the geese that had
gathered a little in front of him, and were gabbling noisily and having
a kind of indignation meeting, because they had been driven out of the
potato field.

Tommy's father and mother lived in a little house down near the road.
Mr. Wood never had his hired men live in his own house. He had two small
houses for them to live in, and they were required to keep them as neat
as Mr. Wood's own house was kept. He said that he didn't see why he
should keep a boarding house, if he was a farmer, nor why his wife
should wear herself out waiting on strong, hearty men, that had just as
soon take care of themselves. He wished to have his own family about
him, and it was better