Joe and Lucy were twins. Somehow or other Uncle Sam had grown to love them more than any other children in the country round. When they were babies he used to dandle them on his knees. He taught them to take their first steps alone. He bought a book of "Mother Goose's Melodies" on purpose to learn the rhymes and afterwards repeat them to the listening babies.
Sometimes he even stayed home from church on Sunday mornings so as to take care of these twins and give their father and mother a chance to go away together.
"Twins are a great care, a great care," he would say slowly. But he would add with a twinkle in his eyes, "They are never too much of a care for Uncle Sam."
"He is better than any real uncle in the world," said Joe, as he and Lucy opened the gate leading into the old man's garden.
It was a summer evening and the sun was just setting. The rows of hollyhocks and marigolds looked prettier than ever in the sunset light.
"Uncle Sam loves bright things," said Lucy, looking at the flowers. "He is always finding something new to admire. That is why I like to walk in the woods with him."
"He shows me many things I should never see myself," answered Joe.
By this time the children had reached the door of the house, and stepped inside. They never stopped to knock; Uncle Sam would not have liked it.
"I've brought you some cookies, Uncle Sam," said Lucy, handing a covered dish to the old man. "Mother made them this morning. She put raisins in them because she knew you are fond of fruit cookies."
Uncle Sam was pleased when he lifted the napkin and looked at his present.