Then they put some flowers on the
grave, and when they returned to town and Bryce was unsaddling the
ponies, Shirley drew Midget's nose down to her and kissed it. Then
she commenced to weep rather violently.
"What are you crying about?" Bryce demanded. Girls were so hard to
understand.
"I'm go-going h-h-h-home to-morrow," she howled.
He was stricken with dismay and bade her desist from her vain
repinings. But her heart was broken, and somehow--Bryce appeared to
act automatically--he had his arm around her. "Don't cry, Shirley,"
he pleaded. "It breaks my heart to see you cry. Do you want Midget?
I'll give her to you."
Between sobs Shirley confessed that the prospect of parting with him
and not Midget was provocative of her woe. This staggered Bryce and
pleased him immensely. And at parting she kissed him good-bye,
reiterating her opinion that he was the nicest, kindest boy she had
ever met or hoped to meet.
When Shirley and her uncle and aunt boarded the steamer for San
Francisco, Bryce stood disconsolate on the dock and waved to Shirley
until he could no longer discern her on the deck. Then he went home,
crawled up into the haymow and wept, for he had something in his
heart and it hurt. He thought of his elfin companion very frequently
for a week, and he lost his appetite, very much to Mrs.
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