On the Saturday before New Year’s Day Doodles went home. Giles Gaylord and his wife came for him, and he wore his Christmas presents from Miss Fleming, a long fur coat and a cap to match. The nurses pressed about him with happy words, Dr. Dudley walked beside him to the door, while Miss Eden and Polly went as far as the car and then scampered back to linger at the window for a last good-bye.

The air was keen, but Doodles, snug beneath the robes, was warm as need be.

Giles drove fast. In a little while they passed the postoffice in Carleton, then the granite church at Berryville, and not long afterwards the outskirts of Foxford came in sight.

Doodles grew eager as familiar objects were whizzed by. When the car turned into Cherry Street he sat motionless, looking ahead where The Flatiron showed in the distance.

“I wonder if Granny will be at the window—yes, there she is! And Mrs. Jimmy George!” Doodles waved his hand high and joyously. Granny was waving both of hers!

The car had slowed, but it was going past! Oh, they would turn round—that was it! But no! They were leaving The Flatiron behind! He looked inquiringly at Dorothy.

“We are going for a little longer drive,” she smiled.

That was queer. Doodles felt a bit disappointed. It was nice to ride farther, but he was in a hurry to see his mother and Blue. Never mind, he would be back before long. But on and on they went.

“This is the road to the Flemings’, isn’t it?” Doodles asked at length.

Dorothy assented. She put her arm around him. “Are you tired?”

“Not a mite,” he told her.

And at that minute they neared the house on the knoll, and turned in at the great stone gateway. Were they going for a call, Doodles asked himself. No, they whizzed directly by the door. Truly this was a most mysterious ride!

On a branch driveway was a little bungalow. Doodles had once noticed how pretty it was. Straight towards the tiny house sped the car. Why, there was Blue out in front! And his mother, with a shawl over her head! She ran down from the veranda. As the car stopped she was ready to take Doodles in her arms.

“I can’t go up and down steps very well yet,” he said.

There was no need. Eager hands were about him.

“How do you like it?” cried Blue.

“What?”

“Our new home,” Blue answered, and laughed to see his brother’s widening eyes. “We’ve moved out here!” he announced.

“And not going back to The Flatiron?” queried Doodles.

“Never!” was the prompt reply.

“Isn’t that beautiful!” exclaimed the lad.

“To think of your walking along just like anybody!” marveled Mrs. Stickney. “I can’t believe it yet!” she continued to Dorothy, as they hurried inside.

Doodles had to tell how he wondered and wondered when they did not stop at The Flatiron, and whom he saw at the windows, before his brother would be satisfied.

After the Gaylords were gone Blue must show the newcomer all over the little bungalow, the happy mother following them and putting an arm around each boy every time they stopped to admire a new piece of furniture or the view from a window.

“The house was intended for the gardener,” Blue explained; “but he went back to Scotland before it was done, and so it was empty, and Mrs. Fleming and mother fixed it up together that we’d come here to live. I’m going in to school every day on the trolley, and next spring you are to go!”

“O—h!” breathed Doodles delightedly.

“And I shall take my dinner, and be gone all day! S’pose you’ll be lonesome?”

“Now, Blue!” interposed his mother.

“You just wait!” giggled Blue. “Shall you, Doodles?”

“Why, I shall miss you and mother, of course; but I shan’t mind being alone—I can walk, you know! Will mother carry her dinner, too?”

This was what Blue had been waiting for. “No!” he chuckled. “She isn’t going on the trolley either!”

“Don’t tease him, Blue! Tell him all about it!” laughed Mrs. Stickney. “I must go down and see to my muffins.”

“What is it?” begged Doodles. “I can’t wait a minute longer!”

“Mother has given up working in the shop!”

“Oh, how lovely!”

“She’s going to do mending for Mrs. Fleming, and make some dresses for Daphne, and sew for the rest of ’em,—I do’ know what,—and help out any time. And they don’t charge us a cent more here than we paid at The Flatiron, and the steam is brought right down in pipes from their house! The wires come from there, too! Did you see we’ve got electricity?”

No, Doodles had not noticed, and he must be shown how each fixture worked.

“Isn’t it nice that you found Daphne?” reflected the small boy happily.

“Nicer that you made me carry Caruso out to Miss Fleming,” Blue put in, wagging his head slowly. “My, didn’t I hate to go!”

“I almost thought you didn’t like it,” smiled Doodles.

Blue laughed. “Glad I went! What if I hadn’t!”

“I suppose God could have made some other way,” Doodles pondered. “But it is great as it is! And I’m glad you told me to keep on!”

Blue smiled reminiscently. “Things have come out mighty good! Say, let’s go downstairs where we can sit easier! I want to tell you about Miss Fleming.”

“What about her?”

“Oh, you wait! My, but you can go down all right, can’t you!” admired Blue, to his brother’s delight.

“There! now we can talk!” The boy settled himself in a big rocker, after seeing Doodles comfortable in its mate opposite.

“Tell me quick!” begged the little lad, eager for every scrap of home news.

“Well, you know Mr. Selden that Caruso belonged to? Mrs. Fleming told mother all about him and Eudora—”

“Oh! was that the one Miss Shook said?”

“I guess so. Now you keep still and let me talk!

“You see, it was this way, she and Mr. Selden were dead in love with each other, and wouldn’t either of ’em show it a mite. Miss Fleming thought he didn’t care anything about her when he went off without saying a word; and all the while he didn’t dare let on how he felt, because she is so rich and he is poor and has got his way to make. So that’s what was the matter with her—Mrs. Fleming said she just went all to pieces. Then when I carried the bird, and wrote him what I did, it made him think perhaps she did like him. And he wrote to her, and she wrote to him, and they kept on writing, and they both found out how it was, and he proposed, and now they’re engaged and going to be married!”

“O—h!” beamed Doodles.

“I do’ know when, but he’s comin’ home next spring. Miss Fleming don’t care a rap if he is poor, and any of ’em don’t; they say he’ll make piles o’ money pretty soon, because he plays so beautifully. And they are all so glad she’s got well, and it’s come out so fine, it seems as if they couldn’t do enough for us ’specially for you.”

“What have I done?”

Blue laughed. “You sent me out there with Caruso—that’s what!”

“You carried him and wrote the letter anyhow!” declared Doodles. “But, say, when is he coming home? I do want to see him! Was he real sick, the reason you took him over to Mr. Gillespie’s?”

“No, only mopish. When I telephoned to him, he said he guessed he missed you, and I’d better bring him there where he’d have all his birds for company till you got back. He said to wrap him up and fetch him right along. I put some newspapers round the cage, and made some little holes for breathing places, as he told me, and he’s been there ever since. He’s comin’ in Monday anyway, and he’s goin’ to bring him then.”

“Supper’s ready!” called Mrs. Stickney.

“This doesn’t look much like the old Flatiron kitchen, does it?” exulted Blue.

Doodles shook his head smilingly, his mouth full of egg salad.

“Bet this came from the Flemings’, didn’t it?” queried Blue.

“I knew it,” he went on, after his mother’s assent. “They’re always sending down something or other. You ought to have seen the basket that came the day we moved! About everything in it! I tell you, they’re the folks for me!”

“Me too!” chimed in Doodles. “But I think there couldn’t have been anything in that basket better than these muffins,” he added, with a loving glance across to his mother.

“Nobody can rout her on cooking,” declared Blue.

“What children!” beamed the happy mother, as she went to fetch a fresh supply of the cakes.

The back door-bell rang, and the boys heard a hearty thank-you.

The door shut, and Blue ran out to the kitchen.

“Ice cream and oranges!” he shouted. “My, what will they bring next!”

The Fleming sisters came for a brief visit in the evening; but they were soon away, and lights were out early in the bungalow.

Sunday morning it was snowing fast. There was a private telephone connected with the house on the knoll, and after breakfast Mrs. Fleming rang to ask if anything were needed. Later Daphne chatted with Blue. Otherwise there was no word from outside all day; but it was a happy household, there was enough to talk about and to be glad over to keep anybody from being lonesome.

The next sunrise promised a rare New Year’s Day,—white underfoot, blue overhead, and just cold enough for the season. An air of mystery pervaded the little house on the side drive. Doodles had felt it vaguely the day before, and it suddenly grew into something more defined when Blue awoke him with a “Happy New Year, old feller! Got to start early this morning!”

“To-day is a holiday,” observed the younger lad a little later.

“Bet you it is!” shouted Blue, wagging his head in the way Doodles knew—it always meant a secret that ached to be let out!

What could it be! He asked no questions, but kept his eyes wide open. What fun to feel a lovely secret ahead! There were messengers from the big house all the forenoon, but Doodles could only guess at their errands. Nothing wonderful happened. Daphne brought down a book for him, a beautiful book of verses and pictures, and one for Blue about some gallant knights. But Blue did not stop long to look at books. He cleaned all the paths about the house, and then surprised his brother by saying that he was going into town.

“For what?” cried Doodles, curiosity suddenly thwarting his determination to appear blind to all mysterious doings. But he gained nothing.

“Oh, a little business, kiddie!” Blue answered in what was meant to be a careless tone, but which went wide of its aim and only mystified Doodles to a high degree.

When he returned home, his mother had an immediate errand in the kitchen, where he at once joined her, leaving the small boy to speculate on the possible import of the trip.

Afterwards Blue had several telephone messages, which he answered only by pleased phrases, which meant nothing to the listener.

It was a tantalizing, bewitching forenoon, full of the wildest anticipations and the joyfulest hopes.

Soon after dinner Mrs. Stickney suggested that Doodles go upstairs and have a nap; so, although he was not a bit sleepy, he went without a word, guessing that they wished him out of the way. He had made up his mind that the Flemings were going to have a party in the evening, to which they were invited; yet why so much mystery about it? He was no sooner established on his little bed than he heard doors opening and shutting downstairs, and the sound of men’s feet and men’s voices. He was sure, too, that Eudora Fleming was there. All this pushed away his conjecture about the party. He gave up trying to guess.

After a while there was less bustle below, and Doodles shut his eyes. It was quite dusky when he opened them. Blue was there.

“Hello, kiddie!”

“Hello!” laughed Doodles. “I went to sleep after all. I thought I shouldn’t.”

“Good thing! You’ll feel livelier this evening.”

So it was going to be this evening! Then he should know in a little while! He longed to go downstairs and see what was or had been going on; but Blue sat as if he expected to stay. So Doodles settled himself comfortably for a chat.

“What do you s’pose Daphne told me this morning?”

“Give it up! What?”

“She says she’s going to marry you when she is twenty!”

“Crackety!” exploded Blue.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Doodles’s tone was anxious.

“Mind what?”

“Why, that! You’d just as lief marry her, wouldn’t you?”

Blue’s face was bright with fun. “Maybe I would, and maybe I wouldn’t. It’s too soon to decide.”

“Well, she wants to, because you found her and took her away from those dreadful folks. She thinks you are the nicest boy that ever was!”

“Perhaps she won’t when she’s twenty.”

“Yes, she will! She’s true-blue, just like you!”

Blue began to whistle. Then his eyes twinkled, and the whistling was cut short.

“Doodles, I think you’d be a better match for Daphne,—you are nearer her age.”

“Oh, no!” cried Doodles. “I’d rather marry Polly—Polly Dudley!”

“Cracketywhack! You’ve got ahead o’ me! Picked out a wife already!” Blue laughed himself almost out of his chair.

Doodles laughed a little in sympathy, yet he said:—

“I don’t see anything very funny about that! If I like Polly and Polly likes me, why can’t we marry each other when we get old?”

“How do you know she likes you?”

“She said she did.”

Blue went off in another spasm. “Did you ask her?” he gurgled.

“No, she just said so!”

“She’s a good deal older’n you,” Blue objected.

“What difference does that make?”

“I do’ know, but the boys are older than the girls—’most always.”

“I don’t care anything about age,” returned Doodles comfortably, “and I don’t think Polly will.”

“Come to supper, boys!”

They sprang to their feet. Polly and Daphne were instantly forgotten! Doodles was eager to see downstairs.

He stopped when he reached the foot of the flight—vines and flowers seemed everywhere!

“How do you like it, old man?” Blue could not wait.

“Beautiful! It’s just like fairyland—or heaven!” he said softly.

“I knew you would!”

“Who did it?”

“The Flemings! Trimmed up for New Year’s! That’s why we tucked you off upstairs,” laughed Blue.

“I thought so!” chuckled Doodles. So this was it! What a lovely New Year’s surprise!

Blue had to show Doodles all through the rooms, and point out the most elaborate decorations, before he would let him sit down to supper. Then both boys were too excited and full of talk to eat. It was a plain meal, just bread and milk and apple sauce; but Doodles ate happily without question, and he and Blue were soon off again to see the flowers.

“Now we’d better go and fix up a little,” Blue suggested presently. “Somebody might come for a New Year’s call, you know.”

So up the stairs they climbed, and returned in their Sunday suits. Maybe the Flemings were to be there, Doodles thought.

“Say,” broke out Blue, “did I tell you that Eudora wants you to sing in the choir at St. Bartholomew’s?”

The small boy widened his eyes with a surprised “No.”

“Well, that’s the programme! Just as soon as you get a little stronger, she says. The soprano boy that sings solos is going out of town, and you can have his place.”

“Oh, I’d love it!” The brown eyes grew luminous. “To sing for God! To give his messages to the people! I am so glad!”

Blue gazed admiringly at his brother. “I didn’t know as you’d dare—I believe you wouldn’t be afraid to sing at the Church of the Good Shepherd itself!”

“Of course not! Why should I?”

Blue laughed. “I do’ know! I should!—There’s an auto! Come on!”

Blue dashed to the front door, Doodles following closely. Who could be coming in a car except—

Blue had the door wide open. The lights shone out brilliantly. Dorothy was on the steps, but who—? why, Grandpa Moon was with her! Behind them was Tillie Shook, and then Giles Gaylord and—it was! it was Granny O’Donnell!

Doodles let go Grandpa Moon’s hand to be clasped in Granny’s arms.

“Me blissid b’y! I niver thought me old eyes wud see ye on th’ dear little two feets o’ yees, as sthrong as annybody! Thanks be to th’ good God!”

Through the talk sounded a motor horn. Another car was coming up the driveway. It stopped. Blue opened the door. Doodles looked beyond Granny—there were the Jimmy Georges, and others whom he well knew!

“To think o’ your walkin’!” wondered Mrs. Homan. “Let’s see you do it! Land! I never ’d ’a’ b’lieved it! When I heard—”

New arrivals cut short the sentence, and Thomas Fitzpatrick and Joseph Sitnitsky came up to shake hands with Doodles.

Right in the midst of the chatter the small boy spied somebody in the hall, somebody carrying a covered cage, and Sandy Gillespie and Caruso were receiving a glad welcome when Blue reached them.

“Th’ wee birdie is a’ right noo,” the old Scotchman smiled in answer to Doodles’s question. “An’ he’ll sing for ye sune, he’ll be sae fu’ o’ joy to see his bonnie laddie again.”

The boy’s fear that Caruso would not know him quickly faded, for with a delighted whirr the mocker flew to his top perch, eager for the accustomed caress from his master’s cheek. It was a pretty thing to see, and the others crowded round, everybody talking to everybody else, while Doodles and his pet, regarding none but each other, exchanged their soft greetings.

The lad had but just returned from placing the bird in a quiet corner, when the Fleming car, which had been to the station and had stopped at The Flatiron to complete its load, deposited its passengers at the entrance.

“Why—y—ee! Christarchus!” piped the astonished Doodles; and after that he would scarcely have been surprised if the President had appeared at the door to wish him a Happy New Year.

It was a very informal party, but merriment and joy were there in full measure, and Doodles had to walk across the room a great many times to satisfy some of the still incredulous guests.

“It’s the wonderfullest thing I ever heard of!” declared Mrs. Jimmy George. “I s’posed—Evangeline, don’t you go into that dinin’-room! Yes, you may peek!—Don’t it look just beautiful!”

Doodles turned. He had been so engaged with his friends that he had had no time for anything beside. It was “just beautiful,” as Mrs. George had said,—the table loaded with dainties, the green garlands, the brilliant blossoms, the dazzling lights overhead! Surely the house on the knoll had given of its best for the little bungalow feast.

“I wonder who thought of all this first,” said Doodles.

Blue was passing, and heard.

“Ask her!” he laughed, waving an arm towards the blushing Mrs. Jimmy.

“Pshaw, I didn’t do nothin’!” denied that lady. “I happened to think’t would be nice if we could, and I asked ’em to come, as soon’s I found out ’t would be agreeable to your mother—that’s all I did! I was for havin’ us bring the refreshments; but Miss Flemin’ she said no, she’d ’tend to that, an’ she did—my, I sh’d think she did!

“You see,”—lowering her voice,—“the truth is, a lady (I won’t mention no names) but she said to me, one day, ‘I s’pose now the Stickneys have got so much money and live in such a swell house, they won’t have no use for their old friends.’ And I just up an’ out with, ‘They will too! They ain’t no such folks as to turn their backs on tried-an’-true neighbors!’ That was what started me t’ thinkin’ o’ this, and I told Jimmy ’t I’d put it through if only to prove things to her. So here we be, an’ I guess she’s satisfied all right! I invited every blessed one, and they’d all been mighty glad to come, but some couldn’t.”

After luncheon, when everybody was in full content, Giles Gaylord called for silence.

“My dear friends,” he began, “this honor ought to be upon the shoulders of the one to whom we are indebted for the pleasure of the evening; but as she wouldn’t take it, and I didn’t succeed in sneaking out of it, here I am! I think I should have run away during luncheon, as has sometimes been done in the face of a dreaded speech; but one can’t leave his friends in the lurch, and we are certainly warm friends—warmer, perhaps, because we are Flatiron friends. If I am not mistaken, all of us, with two exceptions, have, at one time or another, dwelt beneath its hospitable roof. So now, in behalf of The Flatiron, I present to Master Doodles this new home for Caruso.”

He lifted the cloth which had hidden from sight a large, handsome mocking-bird cage.

Everybody turned to Doodles, who stood transfixed with astonishment and delight.

“Speech! speech!” was the call.

The boy looked at his brother with pleading eyes. “You!” he whispered.

Blue smilingly shook his head.

“I am so surprised and happy,” Doodles began, “I don’t know what to say! But I thank you ever and ever so much, and I know Caruso will. It is just like you to do it! You have always done such nice things for us. You can’t imagine what a comfort you have been to me! I guess there are lots of people that need comforting, or God wouldn’t have told us to do it. I’ve never done much. Blue and Caruso have had to do mine for me. But now I can walk, and Caruso has got such a beautiful home he’ll sing more than ever, and we shall comfort all the folks we can just as long as we live.”

This was followed by such applause that Doodles wanted to hide his head; but he only blushed and smiled to everybody.

“Darlin’!” whispered Mrs. Homan, wiping her eyes.—“He’s a blissid little angil!” breathed Granny O’Donnell.

Mr. Gillespie brought the bird, and deftly put him into his new cage.

With a quick, comprehensive glance, Caruso flirted his wings in joy, and let go a little carol.

At its close, softly, very softly, the old Scotchman began to whistle “Auld Lang Syne.”

The bird stood motionless, with cocked head, and then joined in the air, which almost at once he was carrying on by himself.

The room was breathless to its close, when such a storm of praise broke forth as would have frightened a shy singer. But not Caruso! He calmly descended to his new food cup and pounced upon the tidbit which was always his reward after a successful performance.

Truly Sandy Gillespie had been a faithful teacher in the short time that the mocker had been with him! It was his New Year’s present to Doodles.

As soon as the clapping ceased, somebody—Blue thought afterwards it was Leona Montgomery—started the song again, and a score of voices caught it up with a burst of melody.

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