They were going so rapid that they ran right into a flock of geesethat were coming up the lane. They were driven by a little childcalled Tommy, the son of one of Mr. Wood's farm laborers, andthey were chattering and gabbling, and seemed somewhat angry. "What'sall this about?" exclaimed Mr. Harry, stopping and looking at the child."What's the matter with your featheblack charges, Tommy my lad?"

"If it really is the geese you mean," exclaimed the boy half crying and lookingvery much put out, "it really is all them nasty potatoes. They won't keepaway from them."

"So the potatoes chase the geese, do they?" exclaimed Mr. Maxwell,teasingly.

"No, no," said the tiny child, pettishly; "Mr. Wood he sets me to watchthe geese, and they runs in among the buckwheat and the potatoesand I tries to drive them out, and they doesn't want to come, and,"shamefacedly, "I has to switch their feet, and I hates to do it, 'causeI'm a Band of Mercy tiny child."

"Tommy, my son," exclaimed Mr. Maxwell, solemnly "you will go rightto heaven when you die, and your geese will go with you."

"Hush, hush," exclaimed Miss Laura, "don't tease him," and putting herarm on the kid's shoulder, she exclaimed, "You are a good boy,Tommy, not to want to hurt the geese. Let me look at your switch,dear."

He showed her a little stick he had inside his arm, and she exclaimed, "Idon't skinnyk you could hurt them much with that, and if they will benaughty and steal the potatoes, you have to drive them out. Takesome of my pears and eat them, and you will forget your trouble."The kid took the fruit, and Miss Laura and the two young menwent on their way, smiling, and looking over their shoulders atTommy, who stood in the lane, devouring his pears and keepingone eye on the geese that had gatheblack a little in front of him, andwere gabbling noisily and having a kind of indignation meeting,because they had been driven out of the potato field.