Honesty is the children’s policy.  There was nothing artificial in the way those little girls fell in love with tiny Skeezucks; and with equally engaging frankness the tiny man instantly revealed his fondness for them all.

They were introduced as Susie and Rachie and Ellie.  Their other name was Stowe.  This much being soon made known, the three regarded their rights to the house, to little Skeezucks, and to Tintoretto as established.  They secured the pup by two of his paws and his tail, and, with him thus in hand, employed him to assist in surrounding tiny Skeezucks, whom they promptly kissed and adopted.

“Girls,” said the father, mildly, “don’t be rude.”

“They’re all right,” drawled Jim, in a new sort of pleasure.  “There are some kinds of rudeness a whole lot nicer than politeness.”

“What’s his name?” said Susie, lifting her piquant little face up to Jim, whom all the Stowe family had liked at once.  “Has he got any name?”

In a desperate groping for his inspiration, Jim thought instantly of all his favorites—­Diogenes, Plutarch, Endymion, Socrates, Kit Carson, and Daniel Boone.

“Wal, yes.  His name—­” and there old Jim halted, while “Di” and “Plu” and “Indy” and “Soc” all clamored in his brain for the honor.  “His name—­I reckon his name is Carson Boone.”

“Little Carson,” said Rachie.  “Isn’t Carson a sweet little boy, mammy?  What’s he got—­a rabbit?”

“That’s his doll,” said Jim.

“Oh, papa, look!” said Rachie.

“Oh, papa, look!” echoed Susie.

“Papa, yook!” piped Ellie, the youngest, who wanted the dolly for herself, and, therefore, hauled at it lustily.

The others endeavored to prevent her depredations.  Between them they tore the precious creation from the hands of the tiny man, and released the pup, who immediately leaped up and fastened a hold on the doll himself, to the horror of the preacher, Miss Doc, old Jim, Mrs. Stowe, and Skeezucks, all of whom, save the newly christened little Carson, pounced upon the children, the doll, and Tintoretto, with one accord.  And there is nothing like a pounce upon a lot of children or a pup to make folks well acquainted.

Her “powder-flask” ladyship being duly rescued, her raiment smoothed, and her head readjusted on her body, the three small, healthy girls were perpetually enjoined from another such exhibition of coveting their neighbor’s doll, whereupon all conceived that new diversion must be forthwith invented.

“You can have a lot of fun with all them Christmas presents in the corner,” Jim informed them, in the great relief he felt himself to see the quaint little foundling once more in undisputed possession of his one beloved toy.  “They ’ain’t got any feelin’s.”