end and that without doubt the children would lead him home to Merivale. The little boy, in violent revulsion from his terrors, began to laugh wildly, and flung his arms round Mishi's neck, rubbing his face into the warm, tawny fur.
"P'haps we kin coax him home with us, an' keep him," suggested Freddy.
The little girl pursed up her mouth doubtfully. "Wish to goodness we could," she answered, embracing the happy Mishi with ardour. "But you know we dassent. Mother would raise an awful row!"
But on this point she had no choice. Mishi absolutely refused to leave them. He stuck to them like a burr, rubbing himself lovingly against them and from time to time eying them with anxious appeal. He was desperately afraid they might vanish and leave him again to his hateful solitude.
The little grey backwoods farmhouse, with its wide farm-yard inclosed by two big barns and a long woodshed, looked very comforting to Mishi as it lay basking in the afternoon sunshine. He felt that he had come home. The kitchen door was flung open, and a woman appeared—a gaunt, lean-featured woman, soured by household cares. At the sight of Mishi her sallow face went white, and her mouth opened for a shriek. But seeing that the children were evidently on the best of
