test and let us hope his last!) with the
proper rural route designation of Happy Hill Farm.

The Hopper carried Billie out to his Grandfather Wilton's car, while Humpy
walked beside him bearing the gifts from the Happy Hill Farm Christmas
tree. From the door Mary watched them depart amid a chorus of merry
Christmases, out of which Billie's little pipe rang cheerily.

When The Hopper and Humpy returned to the house, they abandoned the
parlor for the greater coziness of the kitchen and there took account of
the events of the momentous twenty-four hours.

"Them's what I call nice folks," said Humpy. "They jes' put us on an' wore
us like we wuz a pair o' ole slippers."

"They wuzn't uppish--not to speak of," Mary agreed. "I guess that girl's
got more gumption than any of 'em. She's got 'em straightened up now and I
guess she'll take care they don't cut up no more monkey-shines about that
Chinese stuff. Her husban' seemed sort o' gentle like."

"Artists is that way," volunteered The Hopper, as though from deep
experience of art and life. "I jes' been thinkin' that knowin' folks like
that an' findin' 'em humin, makin' mistakes like th' rest of us, kind o'
makes ut seem easier fer us all t' play th' game straight. Ut's goin' to
be th' white card fer me--jes' chickens an' eggs, an' here's hopin' the
bulls don't ever find out we're settled here."

Humpy, having gone into the parlor to tend the fire, returned with two
envelopes he had found on the mantel. There was a check for a thousand
dollars in each, one from Wilton, the other from Talbot, with "Merry
Christmas" written across the visiting-cards of those gentlemen. The
Hopper permitted Mary and Humpy to examine them and then laid them on the
kitchen table, while he deliberated. His meditations were so prolonged
that they grew nervous.

"I reckon they could spare ut, after all ye done fer 'em, Hop," remarked
Humpy.

"They's millionaires, an' money ain't nothin' to 'em," said The Hopper.

"We can buy a motor-truck," suggested Mary, "to haul our stuff to town;
an' mebbe we can build a new shed to keep ut in."

The Hopper set the catsup bottle on the checks and rubbed his cheek,
squinting at the ceiling in the manner of one who means to be careful of
his speech.

"They's things wot is an' things wot ain't," he began. "We ain't none o'
us ever got nowheres bein' crooked. I been figurin' that I still got about
twenty thousan' o' that bunch o' green I pulled out o' that