"He can take 'em back," said Miss Strong, with flashing eyes and a flirt of her apron.
"R-roughlocks!" the Emperor demanded, in a low tone.
"Who'll tek care of 'em?"
"M-me."
"Heavens!" she exclaimed, her voice full of despair.
"C-come, Mis' Strong." So saying, Silas took the arm of his complaining sister and led her up the hill.
When he had come to the potato-hole he pointed down at the children. They had dressed with scrupulous care for the eye of him who, not an hour since, had been the greatest of all men. The boy lay in his only wide, white collar and necktie, in his best coat and knee-breeches. The girl had on her beloved brown dress and pink sun-bonnet. It was a picture to fill one's eyes, and all the more if one could have seen the hearts of those little people. A new look came into the face of Sinth.
"Land sakes!" she exclaimed, raising one of her hands and letting it fall again; "she looks like Sister Thankful—don't she, don't she, Silas?"
Sinth wiped her eyes with her apron. The heart of Silas Strong had also been deeply touched.
"R-reg'lar angel!" he exclaimed, thoughtfully. After a moment of silence he added, "K-kind o' like leetle f-fawns."