"And what will you do wi' yours, Sandy?"
"I am going to buy a farm in New Jersey, Davie. I was talking with Mr. Black about it this morning. It will cost twelve thousand dollars, but the gentleman says it will be worth double that in a very few years. I think that myself, Davie, for I went yesterday to take a good look at it. It is never well to trust to other folks' eyes, you know."
"Then, Sandy, I'll go shares wi' you. We'll buy the farm together and we'll live together—that is, if you would like it."
"What would I like better?"
"Maybe you have a wife, and then—"
"No, I have no wife, Davie. She died nearly thirty years ago. I have no one but you."
"And we will grow small fruits, and raise chickens and have the finest dairy in the State, Sandy."
"That is just my idea, Davie."
Thus they talked until the winter evening began to close in upon them, and then Davie recollected that his boy, Sandy, would be more than uneasy about him.
"I'll not ask you there to-night, brother; I want them all to myself to-night. 'Deed, I've been selfish enough to keep this good news from them so long."