I had then a small understanding of my loss, hat I have learned since that the farm was not worth the mortgage and that everything had to be sold.
Uncle Eb and I--a little lad, a very little lad of six--were all that was left of what had been in that home.

Some were for sending me to the county house; but they decided, finally, to turn me over to a dissolute uncle, with some allowance for my keep.

Therein Uncle Eb was to be reckoned with.

He had set his heart on keeping me, but he was a farm-hand without any home or visible property and not, therefore, in the mind of the authorities, a proper guardian.

He had me with him in the old house, and the very night he heard they were coming after me in the morning, we started on our journey.