"By thunder! he shall hev his molasses, if he thinks he wants it!"
said Pitt Packard, and he ran up the ladder and brought it down,
comforting the shivering creature thus, for he lapsed into a submissive
silence that lasted until the unwelcome journey was over.

Tom remained at the poorhouse precisely twelve hours.
It did not enter the minds of the authorities that any one so fortunate
as to be admitted into that happy haven would decline to stay there.
The unwilling guest disappeared early on the morrow of his arrival, and,
after some search, they followed him to the old spot. He had climbed
into his beloved retreat, and, having learned nothing from experience,
had mended the willow door as best he could, and laid him down in peace.
They dragged him out again, and this time more impatiently;
for it was exasperating to see a man (even if he were a fool)
fight against a bed and three meals a day.

The second attempt was little more successful than the first.
As a place of residence, the poor-farm did not seem any more desirable
or attractive on near acquaintance than it did at long range.
Tom remained a week, because he was kept in close confinement;
but when they judged that he was weaned from his old home,
they loosed his bonds, and--back to the plains he sped, like an arrow
shot from the bow, or like a bit of iron leaping to the magnet.

What should be done with him?

Public opinion was divided. Some people declared that
the village had done its duty, and if the "dog-goned lunk-head"
wanted to starve and freeze, it was his funeral, not theirs.