“Well, well!” He rubbed his great knees thoughtfully with either hand. “I wouldn’t ever ’a’ thought o’ that. And the Lord himself couldn’t ’a’ planned anything better ’n that.”
“Thank you,” said the man, smiling.
“Jest the right thing,” went on Uncle William. “And byme-by there’ll be little toddlers—gettin’ over the rocks between here and there.”
“Yes.”
“And settin’ by the fire, warmin’ their toes and eatin’ tarts jest the way we used to.”
“Just the same,” said the man.
Uncle William mused thoughtfully. The light of flitting memories was in his face.
The man on the lounge watched him through the high-perched glasses. Presently he took off the glasses and rubbed them on his handkerchief. Then he blew his nose.
Uncle William looked up. The smile on his face was beautiful and tender and full of light. “Where be they?” he said.