"And I'm sure if ever an hour was long, this last one has been," the old gentleman was saying to himself. Joel, who was rather stiff in the joints when first getting up from his work on the carpet, now came out feeling his arms, and then indulging in a good long stretch.
"It seems rather good—eh, Joe?—to swing your arms," cried Grandpapa with a laugh, and a keen glance into the black eyes.
"Yes, sir," declared Joel, with another stretch, and wondering if ever anything was so good in this world as to be told the hour was up.
"Take care," warned the old gentleman; "those long arms of yours will have things off from my table. My goodness, Joe! you must really go out of doors and stretch, you make such a sweep," and he laughed again.
"I can reach so far." Joel ran all around the table and stretched out his brown arms. "See, Grandpapa," he cried; then he got on his tiptoes and leaned over to achieve greater and more astonishing results.
"You'll be over on your nose, if I don't rescue you and the things on my table," said Mr. King, bursting into a heartier laugh than ever. "Come on, Joey, my boy, let's get out of doors, in a larger place." So he gathered up one of the sprawling sets of fingers, and summarily marched him out.
"Now I suppose the next thing in order is to race after Frick and those boys," observed old Mr. King, when the garden walk was attained.
"Yes, sir," cried Joel, his black eyes alight and his feet dancing.
"Well, be off with you."
No need to say more; Joel's heels beat the hastiest of retreats, as he scuttled off at the liveliest pace of which he was capable.