“Oh, it was not Nathaniel’s doing, Sophy,” said our visitor smiling, as he rose and drew aunt’s arm through his, “but mine; I’ve been making the boy show me his treasures. There, come along and you and I will have a good long chat now. Nat, my boy, I sha’n’t forget what we said.”
Chapter Nine.
Uncle Dick’s Boxes.
“I’m afraid we’ve made your aunt very cross, Nat, my boy,” said Uncle Joe, rubbing his hands softly, and looking perplexed and troubled. “Do you think, Nat, that I have been leading you wrong?”
“I hope not, uncle,” I said, “and I don’t think so, for it has been very nice out here in the toolshed, and we have enjoyed ourselves so.”
“Yes, my boy, we have, very much, indeed, but I’m afraid your aunt never forgave us for not putting Humpty Dumpty together again.”
“But, uncle,” I said, “isn’t it unreasonable of Aunt Sophia to expect us to do what all the king’s horses and all the king’s men could not do?”
He looked at me for a few minutes without speaking, and then he began to smile very slightly, then a little more and a little more, till, instead of looking dreadfully serious, his face was as happy as it could be. Then he began to laugh very heartily, and I laughed too, till the tears were in our eyes.