"That was a kind little note that you sent with the bag of nuts," Aunt
Judith said, "and since you've promised to be _my_ friend, Gyp, I
promise to be _yours_."
"All right!" cried Gyp, "when does it begin?'
"What?" she asked in surprise.
"Why, _us_ bein' friends," said Gyp.
"_Now_, Gyp, my boy. _Now_!" said Aunt Judith. "Come in and we'll talk
it over."
"Oo-o-o! Not now!" cried Gyp, "but to-night, if I darest ter, I'll
dress up, and come."
He slid down from the tall old wooden pump, gave three wild hops, and
then raced off across the field toward the old shed-like building that
he called home.
She watched his flying figure from the doorway, and as he disappeared
behind a clump of bushes, she turned, and closed the door.
"Strange, wild little fellow!" she said. "I wonder if he'll come!" And
when night came, she found herself listening for the sound of a quick
step.
At last it came, and quickly Aunt Judith opened the door. Gyp walked
in very meekly, and sat on the edge of a chair seat, his old hat in
his hands.
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