“Please don’t think of going home yet, Hugh,” said the old man, looking distressed at once.  “The night is young, and I don’t know when I’ve enjoyed anyone’s company as I have yours.  My dreams in the long ago were for just such a son as you.  I envy your parents, my lad.  Providence, however, saw fit to turn my activities in another direction; and I have done the best I could to be of some little help to other people’s sons.  I only bitterly regret that I am able to do so little.”

“But I’m afraid the child may become too much bother for your good wife, sir,” Hugh was saying, although already deciding he would remain longer.

The deacon laughed softly.  He put out his big hand, and gently touched Hugh on the sleeve.

“Look yonder, lad!” he went on to say; “does that strike you as if a heavenly little sunbeam like the boy could ever be too much trouble for her?  See how her dear face is lighted up as she bends over him.  He’s gone fast asleep in her arms, as contented as though with his own mother.  Ah! lad, it was a kindly act, your fetching that tiny bit of humanity out to visit us.  You have made her almost happy again for once.”

Hugh, looking, saw that the old lady was paying no further attention to them, or listening to what they were saying.  She touched the sweet face of the child, and pressed her withered lips against his soft skin.  If a tear fell on the little fellow’s head, was it to be wondered at?  He saw her open his clothes at the neck, as though the heat of that blazing fire might be a little too much, in her matronly estimation.

The deacon, too, was looking as though his heart might be in his eyes.  Such a spectacle as that must have been of rare occurrence at his fireside, deeply as he regretted it.

Then he started talking again, for he had been in the midst of an unusually interesting description at the time he drew the boy’s attention to the beautiful picture at the opposite side of the fireplace.  And Hugh, becoming wrapped up in the amusing episode for the moment forgot all about little Joey and the loving soul who had him held in her arms.

What the blacksmith was telling related to a thrilling happening he had experienced on one occasion, when lying out in the woods watching for a certain timid little rodent to commence moving around.  At the time the deacon had one of those new-fangled hand electric torches with him, which he meant to use when the proper moment arrived.

Hearing voices drawing near he thought it best to warn the darkies who were advancing in time, for, otherwise, they threatened to walk directly over him in the pitch darkness.  When, however, he flashed his light suddenly toward them, he must have given them the fright of their lives, for they uttered howls, and fled precipitately, despite his reassuring calls.