Wesley looked straight at Margaret, so intently that she turned away, her face flushing.  He stacked the dictionary and the geography of the world on a chair, and lifted Billy beside him.  He heaped a plate generously, cut the food, put a fork into Billy’s little fist, and made him eat slowly and properly.  Billy did his best.  Occasionally greed overcame him, and he used his left hand to pop a bite into his mouth with his fingers.  These lapses Wesley patiently overlooked, and went on with his general instructions.  Luckily Billy did not spill anything on his clothing or the cloth.  After supper Wesley took him to the barn while he finished the night work.  Then he went and sat beside Margaret on the front porch.  Billy appropriated the hammock, and swung by pulling a rope tied around a tree.  The very energy with which he went at the work of swinging himself appealed to Wesley.

“Mercy, but he’s an active little body,” he said.  “There isn’t a lazy bone in him.  See how he works to pay for his fun.”

“There goes his foot through it!” cried Margaret.  “Wesley, he shall not ruin my hammock.”

“Of course he shan’t!” said Wesley.  “Wait, Billy, let me show you.”

Thereupon he explained to Billy that ladies wearing beautiful white dresses sat in hammocks, so little boys must not put their dusty feet in them.  Billy immediately sat, and allowed his feet to swing.

“Margaret,” said Wesley after a long silence on the porch, “isn’t it true that if Billy had been a half-starved sore cat, dog, or animal of any sort, that you would have pitied, and helped care for it, and been glad to see me get any pleasure out of it I could?”

“Yes,” said Margaret coldly.

“But because I brought a child with an immortal soul, there is no welcome.”

“That isn’t a child, it’s an animal.”

“You just said you would have welcomed an animal.”

“Not a wild one.  I meant a tame beast.”

“Billy is not a beast!” said Wesley hotly.  “He is a very dear little boy.  Margaret, you’ve always done the church-going and Bible reading for this family.  How do you reconcile that ’Suffer little children to come unto Me’ with the way you are treating Billy?”

Margaret arose.  “I haven’t treated that child.  I have only let him alone.  I can barely hold myself.  He needs the hide tanned about off him!”

“If you’d cared to look at his body, you’d know that you couldn’t find a place to strike without cutting into a raw spot,” said Wesley.  “Besides, Billy has not done a thing for which a child should be punished.  He is only full of life, no training, and with a boy’s love of mischief.  He did abuse your kittens, but an hour before I saw him risk his life to save one from being run over.  He minds what you tell him, and doesn’t do anything he is told not to.  He thinks of his brother and sister right away when anything pleases him.  He took that stinging medicine with the grit of a bulldog.  He is just a bully little chap, and I love him.”