“Where’s Uncle John?”
“There he is,” said Mr. Prescott, turning around. “He’s still looking at that gate. Don’t blame him much,” he added.
Back Billy went.
John Bradford was so absorbed in studying the gate that Billy had to call him the second time before he turned.
“Eh! Billy, my lad!” he said. “I should like to do a piece of work as beautiful as that. That is true artist work.”
Something in his tone made Billy say quickly:
“You’re an artist yourself, Uncle John. Miss King said so.”
“I should really like,” said John Bradford again, “to do such a piece of work as that.”
“When we get home,” said Billy, “why don’t you begin?”
“Eh! Billy, my lad!” said Uncle John, but this time he said it with a smile.