his two hands on the top of the handle, leans toward
her and looks into her innocent uplifted face.

The girl's eyes brighten, and she seems to grow tall and beautiful under
his earnest gaze.

"I won't tell, sir. Oh, please to trust me, sir--I won't tell, Mr. John
Logan!"

The boy eagerly comes forward also.

"I won't tell, neither. I won't tell neither; so help me!"

"Well, then, come close to me, Johnny, come close up here, and look in
my face--there! Why, I declare the pleasure I now have, telling you
this, is more than gold! And I need money sadly enough."

"You're awful poor, ain't you?" asked Stumps, hitching up his pants.

"Been workin' all day and ain't got much in the pan," says Carrie,
looking sidewise at the few colors of gold in the bottom edge of the
pan.

"Ah, yes, Carrie. Look at my hands--hard and rough as the bark of a
tree; but I don't mind that, Carrie, I was born here, I was born poor, I
shall live poor and die poor. But I don't mind it, Carrie. I have my
mother to love and look after, and while she lives I am content."

The girl looks at the woods, looks at the man, and then once more at the
woods, and at last in her helplessness to solve the problem, falls to
eating nuts, as usual; while the man continues, as if talking to
himself:

"This is the peace of Paradise; and see the burning bush! Now I can
well understand that Moses saw the face of God in the bush of fire."

"Oh," the girl says to herself, "if he only would be cross! If he only
would say something rough to us! If he only would cuss."

She resolves to say or do something to break the spell. She asks
eagerly:

"Are you going to give something to Stumps and me?--I mean Johnny and
me?"

"Yes, yes, to-morrow evening, after my work is done. And now I am going
to tell you and Johnny what it is. It ain't much; it's the least little
thing in the world; but I don't deserve any credit for even that--it's
my poor dear old mother's idea. She has laid there, day after day, on
the porch, and she has been thinking, not all the time of her own
sickness and sorrow, but of others, as well; and she has thought much of
you."

The boy stands far aside, and at mention of this he jerks himself into a
knot, his head drops down between his shoulders, his mouth puckers up,
and he exclaims "Oh, hoka!"

"Thought of me?" says Carrie.

"Of you, Carrie. And listen; I must tell you a little story. When I was
a very young man, and killed my first gr