up and down with fife and drum, and waving banners, and shouts of victory—a battalion as brave as any in the great army of happiness. They saved the day which else had been overrun with thoughts and fears from the camp of the enemy. Well, we had a cheerful time of it, and not an eye closed until after the stroke of ten that night.
Slowly, silence fell in the little house. Below-stairs the lights were out, and Hope and I were sitting alone before the fire. We were talking of old times in the dim firelight. Soon there came a gentle rap at our door. It was Uncle Eb with a candle in his hand.
“I jes' thought I'd come in an' talk a leetle conversation,” said he, and sat down, laughing with good humor.
“'Member the ol' hair trunk?” he asked, and when I assured him that we
could not ever forget it, he put his hand over his face and shook with silent and almost sorrowful laughter.
“I 'member years ago, you use' to think my watch was a gran' thing, an' when ye left hum ye wanted t' take it with ye, but we didn't think it was best then.”