We found him most starved in the coach-house, and he's been here ever since," answered Bab, comprehensively.
"Tell me about it.

I like tramps, too," and the man looked as if he did very much, as Bab told the little story in a few childish words that were better than a much more elegant account.
"You were very good to the little feller," was all the man said when she ended her somewhat confused tale, in which she had jumbled the old coach and Miss Celia, dinner-pails and nutting, Sancho and circuses.
"'Course we were! He's a nice boy and we are fond of him, and he likes us," said Bab, heartily.
"'Specially me," put in Betty, quite at ease now, for the black eyes had softened wonderfully, and the brown face was smiling all over.
"Don't wonder a mite.

You are the nicest pair of little girls I've seen this long time," and the man put a hand on either side of them, as if he wanted to hug the chubby children.

But he didn't do it; he merely smiled and stood there asking questions till the two chatterboxes had told him every thing there was to tell in the most confiding manner, for he very soon ceased to seem like a stranger, and looked so familiar that Bab, growing inquisitive in her turn, suddenly said,-- "Haven't you ever been here before?
It seems as if I'd seen you." "Never in my life.

Guess you've seen somebody that looks like me," and the black eyes twinkled for a minute as they looked into the puzzled little faces before him, then he said, soberly,-- "I'm looking round for a likely boy; don't you think this Ben would suite me?
I want just such a lively sort of chap." "Are you a circus man ?" asked Bab, quickly.
"Well, no, not now.