"You call me sir," said Mr. Devering quite wistfully. "Do you then find me so old?"
"Oh, no, no, I feel as if you were a big brother very much older and wiser than I am."
I had never heard a boy talk like this before, but it seemed to please the man, for he grew quite red and happy.
"It would gratify me very much," he said, "if you and I could be chums as your Dad and I were."
"Let's be pals," said the boy; "you seem quite young in your ways."
"Do I seem younger than your dad?"
"My father is magnificent," said the boy seriously, "quite magnificent, but he says he can't call back his youth. It's slipped away from him. I remember when he said it. We were in his library. He sank 'way down in his big chair, his face was pale, his eyes were closed, I thought he had gone to sleep. Then he rose up and called out, 'Son, I'd give all my books if I could remember what I was thinking about when I was your age. It's all gone.'"
Mr. Devering looked serious. "You boys don't know how much we men sympathise with you and long to get down to your level, but the big world catches us and life is strenuous, and——"
His voice trailed off into silence and young Dallas said eagerly, "Let's have this wonderful pony for a pal too, and let's have some fancy names. Do you like baseball, sir, and football?"
"Immensely."