Margaret set the supper on the table. Seeing the old red cloth Wesley
stared in amazement. Then he understood. Billy capered around in
delight.

"Ain't that pretty?" he exulted. "I wish Jimmy and Belle could see. We,
why we ist eat out of our hands or off a old dry goods box, and when we
fix up a lot, we have newspaper. We ain't ever had a nice red cloth like
this."

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."