neck, and the sheep dog's head lay on his breast, and his own head
touched the dog's.

And it was a smaller head than the parson had been led to expect, and it
had thick black hair.

As the parson bent over the hearth, Thomasina took Miss Kitty round the
waist, and Miss Betty clutched her black velvet bag till the steel beads
ran into her hands, and they were quite prepared for an explosion, and
sulphur, and blue lights, and thunder.

And then the parson's deep round voice broke the silence, saying,--

"Is that you, lad? GOD bless you, John Broom. You're welcome home!"



THE END


Some things--such as gossip--gain in the telling, but there are others
before which words fail, though each heart knows its own power of
sympathy. And such was the joy of the little ladies and of Thomasina at
John Broom's return.

The sheep dog had had his satisfaction out long ago, and had kept it to
himself, but how Pretty Cocky crowed, and chuckled, and danced, and
bowed his crest, and covered his face with his amber wings, and kicked
his seed-pot over, and spilled his water-pot on to the Derbyshire marble
chess-table, and screamed till the room rang again, and went on