she's been to you and all of us." His father hugged him closer. "If you can always remember to do that," he said, "your part of the world will certainly be a happy place to live in. If you can be blind and deaf to other people's faults and speak only pleasant things." "Papa," said Phil, in the pause that followed, hiding his face on his father's shoulder and speaking with a tremble in his voice, "I'm mighty sorry I did so many bad things to-day: broke the music-box, and ran away with Elsie, and mortified the family name, begging on the streets. That's what Aunt Patricia told Mrs. Driggs. I never want to run away again as long as I live. Oh, if you'll only forgive me and let me stay, I'd rather be your little boy than anybody else's in the whole world!" The doctor gathered him closer in his arms and kissed him. "Do you think that anything in the whole world could make me give you up, my little Philip?" he said. "You have been a great worry to me sometimes, but you are one of my very greatest blessings, and I love you--oh, my child, you will never know how much!" A great, happy "bear-hug" almost choked him, as Phil's arms were clasped about his neck. Then he said, "I think we understand each other all the way around, now. Shut your eyes, little man, and I'll rock you to sleep." Phil snuggled down against him like a little bird in a warm nest, and there they sat in the firelight together. The old rocking-chair threw a giant shadow on the wall as it swung slowly back and forth, back and forth. "_Creakity-creak_," droned the rockers. "_Creakity-creak_, _squeakity-squeak_," and to the music of their drowsy song Phil fell fast asleep in his father's arms. CHAPTER VIII. DAGO BIDS FAREWELL TO THE MIRROR-MONKEY. Hey there, Ring-tail, I've just slipped in a moment to say good-bye. I'm off for California in the morning. It seems that I'm at the bottom of all the trouble in this family, so I'm to be shipped by the fast express. But you needed waste any sympathy on _me_. I am going back to the old California garden among the vines and the pepper-trees, where I shall miss all the winter's snow and ice that I have been dreading. The boys do not feel that they are giving me up entirely, for they will see me once a year when they visit their grandfather. I am sorry