t
Wilson, after kissing his friend on the cheek and whispering, "I like
you, Uncle Man-on-the-Hill," took his teddy-bear under his arm and
plodded homeward.

The next morning he came again, but mournfully and slow. There were tear
stains on the little round cheeks.

"Why, son, what had happened?" said Grant, his abundant sympathies
instantly responding.

"Teddy's spoiled," the child sobbed. "I set him--on the side of--the pig
pen, and he fell'd in, and the big pig et him--ate him--up. He didn't
'zactly eat him up, either--just kind of chewed him, like."

"Well that certainly is too bad. But then, you're going to eat the pig
some day, so that will square it, won't it?"

"I guess it will," said the boy, brightening. "I never thought of that."

"But we must have a teddy for Prince. See, he is looking around, waiting
for it." Grant folded his coat into the shape of a dummy and set it up
on the hames, and all went merrily again.

That afternoon, which was Saturday, the boy came thoughtfully and
with an air of much importance. Delving into a pocket he produced an
envelope, somewhat crumpled in transit. It was addressed, "The Man on
the Hill."

Grant tore it open eagerly and read this note:

"DEAR MAN-ON-THE-HILL,--That is the name Wilson calls you, so perhaps
you will let me use it, too. Frank is to be home to-morrow, and will you
come and have dinner with us at six? My father and mother will be here,
and possibly one or two others. You had a clash with my men-folk once,
but you will find them ready enough to make allowance for, even if they
fail to understand, your point of view. Do come.--ZEN.

"P.S.--It just occurs to me that your associates in your colonization
scheme may want to claim your time on Sunday. If any of them come out,
bring them along. Our table is an extension one, and its capacity has
never yet been exhausted."

Although Grant's decision was made at once he took some time for
reflection before writing an acceptance. He was to enter Zen's house
on her invitation, but under the auspices, so to speak, of husband and
parents. That was eminently proper. Zen was a sensible girl. Then there
was a reference to that ancient squabble in the hay meadow. It was
evidently her plan to see the hatchet buried and friendly relations
established all around. Eminently proper and sensible.

He turned the sheet over and wrote on the back:

"DEAR ZEN,--Delighted to come. May have a couple of friends with me