Page:Anne's house of dreams (1920 Canada).djvu/86

 doing jobs like that. He’ll do, maybe. He’s always a heap more interested in his wages than in his work, just like a man, and he’s so slow in the uptake that he stands still for five minutes before it dawns on him that he’s stopped. His father threw a stump at him when he was small.

Nice gentle missile, wasn’t it? So like a man! Course, the boy never got over it. But he’s the only one I can recommend at all. He painted my house for me last spring. It looks real nice now, don’t you think?”

Anne was saved by the clock striking five.

“Lord, is it that late?” exclaimed Miss Cornelia. “How time does slip by when you’re enjoying yourself! Well, I must betake myself home.”

“No, indeed! You are going to stay and have tea with us,” said Anne eagerly.

“Are you asking me because you think you ought to, or because you really want to?” demanded Miss Cornelia.

“Because I really want to.”

“Then I’ll stay. You belong to the race that knows Joseph.”

“I know we are going to be friends,” said Anne, with the smile that only they of the household of faith ever saw.

“Yes, we are, dearie. Thank goodness, we can choose our friends. We have to take our relatives as they are, and be thankful if there are no penitentiary birds among them. Not that I’ve many—none nearer