Letitia whispered forcibly, “Through a little green door in my Great-aunt Peggy’s cheese-room.”

“Had she told you never to open it?”

“Yes, but she and Hannah left me alone when they went to meeting and I found the key in a little box, and the key had a green ribbon and it unlocked the door, and I was in the woods around here, and Aunt Peggy’s house was gone and everything.”

“How long have you been here?”

“I don’t know.  It must have been a long time, for I have done so much work, and learned to do so much that I had started with all done.”

“It is just the same with me,” whispered the boy.

Letitia shivered, half with joy, half with horror.  “Did you come through a little green door?”

“No, I came through a book.”

Letitia jumped.  “A book!” she repeated feebly.

“Yes, it was a book.  I didn’t know it at first.  I thought it was just a wooden box up in Grandmother Peabody’s garret, and it was always locked, and Grandmother Peabody said I was never to ask any questions about it, and never to try to open it.  I expect she was afraid I might try to pick the lock.  Then I began to suspect that it was a book, and then I found the key.  I stayed at home from meeting just like you, and I had a cold.  My father had died, and I had come to live with Grandmother Peabody.”

“I remember now Aunt Peggy told Hannah about it,” whispered Letitia with sudden remembrance.

“I don’t know how long ago it was, for I have done so much work making wooden nails, when all the nails I had ever seen were bought at a shop, and such things, that it seems an awful long time; but I was left alone just the way you were, and I found the key to that book that looked like a wooden box.  It was in a little drawer of Grandmother’s secretary.”

“Did it have a green ribbon on it?” whispered Letitia breathlessly.

“Yes, it did, honest, a green ribbon, and I went up in the garret and I unlocked that book, and first thing I knew I was in the woods around the house where I live now, and a wolf was chasing me, and Mr. Cephas Holbrook shot him, and took me home.”

Letitia sighed.  “Do you like it here?” she whispered.

“I think it is awful, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do, but I don’t dare say so.”

“I do,” said Josephus Peabody.  “I ain’t afraid of anything that ain’t bigger and stronger than I am, honest, and I have killed one wolf my own self.  That is true, but I didn’t kill the others.  I told that because that other girl was turning up her nose so at me.  But I don’t like to live here at all.  I used to complain when I was Joe instead of Josephus, and had to learn lessons, and do errands.  But this is worse than anything I ever dreamed about when I had the nightmare.”

“That is the way I feel,” said Letitia soberly.  “I used to complain, but I wouldn’t now.  I’ve been living back of complaints too long.”