uldn't 'a' dragged
his two eyes open, or him out of bed, to mingle in the ceremonies."

To prevent a recurrence of similar descents upon his household, Jim
arranged his plans in such a manner that the timid little Skeezucks
should never again be left alone. Indeed, the gray old miner hardly
ever permitted the little chap to be out of his sight. Hour by hour,
day by day, he remained at his cabin, playing with the child, telling
him stories, asking him questions, making him promises of all the
wonderful toys and playthings he would manufacture soon.

Once in a while the little fellow spoke. That utterance came with
difficulty to his lips was obvious. He must always have been a silent,
backward little fellow, and sad, as children rarely become at an age so
tender. Of who or what he was he gave no clew. He seemed to have no
real name, to remember no parents, to feel no confidence in anything
save "Bruvver Jim" and Tintoretto.

In the course of a week a number of names had been suggested for the
tiny bit of a stranger, but none could suit the taste of Jim. He
waited still for a truant inspiration, and meanwhile "Skeezucks" came
daily more and more into use among the men of Borealis.

It was during this time that a parcel arrived at the cabin from the
home of Miss Doc. It was fetched to the hill by Doc himself, who said
it was sent by his sister. He departed at once, to avoid the
discussion which he felt its contents might occasion.

On tearing it open old Jim was not a little amazed to discover a lot of
little garments, fashioned to the size of tiny Skeezucks, with all the
skill which lies--at nature's second thought--in the hand of woman.
Neat little undergarments, white little frocks, a something that the
miner felt by instinct was a "nightie," and two pairs of the smallest
of stockings rewarded the overhauling of the package, and left Jim
momentarily speechless.

"By jinks!" said Keno, pulling down his sleeves, "them are awful small
fer us!"

"If only I had the time," drawled Jim, "I'd take 'em back to Miss Doc
and throw them in her yard. We don't need anybody sewin' for little
Skeezucks. I was meanin' to make him somethin' better than these
myself."

"Oh!" said Keno. "Well, we could give 'em to the pup. He'd like to
play with them little duds."

"No; I'll try 'em on the little boy tonight," reflected Jim, "and then,
if we find they ain't a fit, why, I'll either send 'em back or cut 'em
apart and