"Toby did not mind knitting, but he did not like to make the soup. It
had never seemed to him to be a man's work, and besides, it hurt his
old, rheumatic back to bend over the soup-kettle. That was what put
it into his head to get married again. He thought if he could find a
pleasant, tidy woman, who would stir the soup while he sat in the
door beside the loon, and knit the stockings, he could live much more
comfortably than he did.
"Now Toby thought he knew of just the one he wanted. She was a widow
who lived a few squares from him. She was as sweet-tempered as a dove,
and nobody could find a speck of dirt in her house if he was to search
all day with a lantern.
[Illustration: TOBY AND THE CRAZY LOON.]
"Toby thought about it for a long time. He did not wish to take any
rash step, but his back got lamer and stiffer, and when one day the
soup burned on to the kettle, and he dropped some stitches in his
stocking running to lift it off, he made up his mind.
"The very next morning after his six grandchildren had gone to school,
he put on his coat with phosphorescent buttons, lit his lantern, and
started out. _Link, link, bobolink_! cried the crazy loon as he went
out the door.
"'Yes; I am going to bring home a pleasant and neat mistress for you,
and maybe you will recover your reason,' said Toby.
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