Everybody in Greenhills knew "Stoopin' Jacob," the little humpbacked boy
who lived at the north end of the village. From babyhood he had suffered
from a grievous deformity which rounded his little shoulders and bowed
the frail form. It was characteristic of the kindly folk of the
neighborhood, that, instead of calling the boy Hump-backed or
Crooked-backed Jacob, they gave him the name of Stoopin' Jacob, as if
the bowed and bent posture was voluntary, and not enforced.
A lovely soul dwelt in that crooked, pain-racked body, and looked out
of the gentle brown eyes shining in the pale, thin little face. Every
one loved the boy, most of all the dogs, cats, horses, cows of the
little farms, the birds and animals of forest and brookside. He knew
them all, and they knew, loved, and trusted him. The tinier creatures,
such as butterflies, bees, ants, beetles, even caterpillars, downy or
smooth, were his friends, or seemed so. He knew them, watched them,
studied their habits, and was the little naturalist of Greenhills
village, consulted by all, even by older and wiser people.
A close friendship existed between the boy and Story-tell Lib, and we
all understood the tale she told us one day when Stoopin' Jacob was one
of the listeners.