ould have said that he had no interest
in anything else.

Aunt Dorcas stood looking questioningly at Joe, and, thinking he
understood that which was in her mind, he said:

"My name is Joe Potter. I used to keep a fruit-stand down on West
Street, in New York, till I busted up, an' then I found the princess,
but--"

Joe checked himself in time to preserve his secret. An instant later he
wished he had explained to aunt Dorcas why he was there, because of the
sympathy he read in her face.

The little woman waited a few seconds for him to continue, but, since
he remained silent, she asked, with mild curiosity:

"Who is the princess?"

"She's a swell little girl what's lost her folks, an' I'm takin' care of
her for a spell. Say, ma'am,--I mean, aunt Dorcas,--is there any work
Plums an' I can do to pay for a chance of stoppin' here over to-morrow?"

"I suppose I might find enough, Joseph, for there's always plenty to be
done around a place, no matter how small it is; but I'm not certain
you'd be strong enough to spade up the garden, and clear the drain, even
if you knew how. They say city boys are dreadful unhandy when it comes
to outdoor work."

"Jest you try us an' see!" Joe cried, with animation. "We ain't sich
chumps but that we know how to do most anything, after we've studied
over it a spell. Will you let us stay if we do work enough?"

"I surely ought to be willing to do that much for my fellow creatures,
Joseph, even though I get nothing in return; but I can't say it won't be
a trial for me to have two boys around the house after I've lived alone
so long. Martha, Mary, and I took care of this place, with the help of a
man in summer, a good many years after our parents died, and I suppose
we got fussy and old-maidish-like in our ways," aunt Dorcas said,
growing reminiscent. "Martha went home to heaven seven years ago in
September, and Mary followed her the next January. Since then I've been
alone, and it stands to reason I'm more old-maidish than ever; but I
hope I could keep two homeless boys twenty-four hours without
fretting."

Then aunt Dorcas crossed the room to the mantel, in order to light
another lamp, and Plums whispered, hoarsely:

"Say, Joe, what do you s'pose she put this clean towel here for? I've
got custard on it, an' I'm afraid that'll make her mad."

Joe unfolded his napkin inquisitively, and looked at it an instant
before he understood for what purpose it must have been intended.

Then