"Oh, goody! And might Petunia come, too?""Um-hm.Only," gravely, "she'll have to promise not to talk too much.Think she'll promise that? All right; then fetch her along."So, the very next morning, when Jed was busy at the bandsaw, he was not greatly surprised when the door opened and Miss Barbara appeared, with Petunia in her arms.He was surprised, however, and not a little embarrassed when Mrs.Armstrong followed.

"Good morning," said the lady, pleasantly."I came over to make sure that there hadn't been a mistake.You really did ask Babby to come in and see you at work?""Yes, ma'am, I--I did.I did, sartin."

"And you don't mind having her here? She won't annoy you?""Not a mite.Real glad to have her."

"Very well, then she may stay--an hour, but no longer.Mind, Babby, dear, I am relying on you not to annoy Mr.Winslow."So the juvenile visitor stayed her hour and then obediently went away, in spite of Jed's urgent invitation to stay longer.She had asked a good many questions and talked almost continuously, but Mr.

Winslow, instead of being bored by her prattle, was surprised to find how empty and uninteresting the shop seemed after she had quitted it.

She came again the next day and the next.By the end of the week Jed had become sufficiently emboldened to ask her mother to permit her to come in the afternoon also.This request was the result of a conspiracy between Barbara and himself.

"You ask your ma," urged Jed."Tell her I say I need you here afternoons."Barbara looked troubled."But that would be a wrong story, wouldn't it?" she asked."You don't really need me, you know.""Eh? Yes, I do; yes, I do."

"What for? What shall I tell her you need me for?"Jed scratched his chin with the tail of a wooden whale.

"You tell her," he drawled, after considering for a minute or two, "that I need you to help carry lumber."Even a child could not swallow this ridiculous excuse.Barbara burst out laughing.

"Why, Mr.Winslow!" she cried."You don't, either.You know Icouldn't carry lumber; I'm too little.I couldn't carry any but the littlest, tiny bit."Jed nodded, gravely."Yes, sartin," he agreed; "that's what I need you to carry.You run along and tell her so, that's a good girl."But she shook her head vigorously."No," she declared."She would say it was silly, and it would be.Besides, you don't really need me at all.You just want Petunia and me for company, same as we want you.Isn't that it, truly?""Um-m.Well, I shouldn't wonder.You can tell her that, if you want to; I'd just as soon."The young lady still hesitated."No-o," she said, "because she'd think perhaps you didn't really want me, but was too polite to say so.If you asked her yourself, though, I think she'd let me come."At first Jed's bashfulness was up in arms at the very idea, but at length he considered to ask Mrs.Armstrong for the permission.It was granted, as soon as the lady was convinced that the desire for more of her daughter's society was a genuine one, and thereafter Barbara visited the windmill shop afternoons as well as mornings.

She sat, her doll in her arms, upon a box which she soon came to consider her own particular and private seat, watching her long-legged friend as he sawed or glued or jointed or painted.He had little waiting on customers to do now, for most of the summer people had gone.His small visitor and he had many long and, to them, interesting conversations.

Other visitors to the shop, those who knew him well, were surprised and amused to find him on such confidential and intimate terms with a child.Gabe Bearse, after one short call, reported about town that crazy Shavin's Winslow had taken up with a young-one just about as crazy as he was.

"There she set," declared Gabriel, "on a box, hugging a broken-nosed doll baby up to her and starin' at me and Shavin's as if we was some kind of curiosities, as you might say.Well, one of us was; eh? Haw, haw! She didn't say a word and Shavin's he never said nothin' and I felt as if I was preaching in a deef and dumb asylum.Finally, I happened to look at her and I see her lips movin'.'Well,' says I, 'you CAN talk, can't you, sis, even if it's only to yourself.What was you talkin' to yourself about, eh?' She didn't seem to want to answer; just sort of reddened up, you know; but I kept right after her.Finally she owned up she was countin'.'What was you countin'?' says I.Well, she didn't want to tell that, neither.Finally I dragged it out of her that she was countin' how many words I'd said since I started to tell about Melissy Busteed and what she said about Luther Small's wife's aunt, the one that's so wheezed up with asthma and Doctor Parker don't seem to be able to do nothin' to help.'So you was countin' my words, was you?' says I.'Well, that's good business, I must say!

How many have I said?' She looked solemn and shook her head.'Ihad to give it up,' says she.'It makes my head ache to count fast very long.Doesn't it give you a headache to count fast, Mr.

Winslow?' Jed, he mumbled some kind of foolishness about some things givin' him earache.I laughed at the two of 'em.'Humph!'

says I, 'the only kind of aches I have is them in my bones,'

meanin' my rheumatiz, you understand.Shavin's he looked moony up at the roof for about a week and a half, same as he's liable to do, and then he drawled out: 'You see he DOES have headache, Babbie,'

says he.Now did you ever hear such fool talk outside of an asylum? He and that Armstrong kid are well matched.No wonder she sits in there and gapes at him half the day."Captain Sam Hunniwell and his daughter were hugely tickled.

"Jed's got a girl at last," crowed the captain."I'd about given up hope, Jed.I was fearful that the bloom of your youth would pass away from you and you wouldn't keep company with anybody.

You're so bashful that I know you'd never call on a young woman, but I never figured that one might begin callin' on you.Course she's kind of extra young, but she'll grow out of that, give her time."Maud Hunniwell laughed merrily, enjoying Mr.Winslow's confusion.