"Oh, they are out thar somewhar on the hills, I reckin'," Uncle Dan answered.
Joe looked at the mountaineer for a moment, carefully examining the hunting jacket of tanned skins, the hair of which formed an ornamental fringe, and then said:
"I know you now. You are my Uncle Esau; but why should you be here in Egypt? It was you who grew angry with my father because he got your birthright for a mess of potage. You sought to slay him and he fled. Have you come to mock his son?"
"Oh, no, youngster; yer pap and me hev made up that little fuss long ago. I forgive him that little steal, an' now we ar' all squar' agin."
"But why are you in Egypt? You must be very old. My father, who is younger than you, is old—bowed down—"
"Poor boy," said Mr. Tompkins, with a sigh, "he has been a close student, and perhaps that was what turned his head."
"Does he ever git rantankerous?" asked Uncle Dan.
"No; he is always mild and harmless."
"Have you seen my father?" Joe now asked. "He has long white hair and snowy beard."
"No, youngster; I ain't got a sight o' the old man fur some time," said Uncle Dan.