happy little red face had suddenly turned sober.

"Come in, Sonny, an' we'll see what all the trouble's about, an'
straighten it out in a jiffy," spoke up Grandpa. The contrast between
Grandpa's slow tones and the "jiffy" was very funny.

Willy crept slowly down the long piazza, through the big kitchen into
the dining-room.

"Now, Sonny, come right here," said his grandfather, "an' we'll have
it all fixed up nice."

The boy kept looking from one face to another in a wondering
frightened way. He went hesitatingly up to his grandfather, and stood
still, his poor little smarting feet toeing in, after a fashion they
had, when tired, the pail full of berries dangling heavily on his
slight arm.

"Now, Sonny, look up here, an' tell us all about it. What did you do
with Grandpa's coat, boy?"

"I--didn't do anything with it."

"William," began his grandmother, but Grandpa interrupted her. "Just
wait a minute, mother," said he. "Sonny an' I air goin' to settle
this. Now, Sonny, don't you get scared. You jest think a minute.
Think real hard, don't hurry--now, can't you tell what you did with
Grandpa's coat?"

"I--didn't--do anything with it," said Willy.

"My sakes!" said his grandmother. "What has come to the child?" She
was very pale. Aunt Annie and uncle Frank looked as if they did not
know what to think. Grandpa himself settled back in his chair, and
stared helplessly at Willy.

Finally aunt Annie tried her hand. "See here, Willy dear," said she,
"you are tired and hungry and want your supper; just tell us what you
did with the coat after Grandma Perry gave it to you"--

"She didn't," said Willy.

That was dreadful. They all looked aghast at one another. Was Willy
lying--Willy!

"Didn't--give--it--to you--Sonny!" said Grandpa, feebly, and more
slowly than ever.

"No, sir."

Grandma Stockton had been called quick-tempered when she was a girl,
and she gave proof of it sometimes, even now in her gentle old age.
She spoke very sternly and quickly: "Willy, we have had all of this
nonsense that we want. Now you just speak right up an' tell the truth.
What did you do with your grandfather's coat?"

"I didn't do anything with it," faltered Willy again. His lip was
quivering.

"What?"

"I--didn't"--began the child again, then his sobs checked him. He
crooked his little free arm, hid his face in the welcome curve, and
cried in good earnest.

"Stop crying and tell me the truth," said Grandma pitilessly.

Wil