“Because the description he gave me of you is so accurate that I could tell you from a thousand. Do you remember the sketch he made of an old woman throwing a cat at her husband?”
“That I do. Did he tell you of that?”
“That he did; and of the scratch he got from the cat’s claws, as you bopped your head, and puss lit directly on his face.”
Here the old man could not help laughing.
“But did he tell you nothing else about the sketch?”
“That he did, and with such feeling, that I almost fancy I see now the scrub-brush belabouring his head for his pains.”
“Oh, dear! oh, dear! I thought he had forgotten all that.”
“No; he thought of it at the very time he was sketching the forts of his enemies’ country. Had he been caught in such freaks as those, he would have had a severer punishment than what your good dame gave him.”
“But if my old dame could see him now, how rejoiced she would be; for notwithstanding his roguery, he was a great favourite of hers!”
“She will see him to-morrow.”