Mr. Brown looked at the boy's sore foot, and found that there was a big sharp thorn in one toe. When this thorn had been taken out, and the toe bound up with salve, the ragged boy said he felt much better. Perhaps I shouldn't call him a ragged boy any longer, for he was not, with Bunker's clothes on.
"Mother, is he going to stay with us?" asked Bunny that evening when it was nearly supper time, and the new boy—Tom Vine —had gone after a pail of water at the spring.
"Would you care to have him stay?" asked Mrs. Brown.
"Yes," said Sue. "He's nice. I like him."
"Well, we'll keep him for a while," answered Mrs. Brown. "He needs help, I think."
Tom Vine told more of his story after supper. He had never been away from the city's pavements in all his life before he went out to the country with the farmer who hired him. He had never seen the ocean, or the woods. He did not even know that cows gave milk until he saw the farmer's hired man milking one day.
