FROM VASES TO DRAIN-PIPES
During the week that followed neither Dr. Swift nor Mr. Croyden took any more long trips away from the camp. They went, to be sure, on short fishing excursions, often being absent an entire morning or afternoon; but they passed no nights away from Theo. The boy suspected that his father's reason for this decision was because for the last few days try as he would he had been unable to conceal how miserable and uncomfortable he felt. Dr. Swift, however, would not own that this was the cause of his loitering at home. He merely declared that when the near-at-hand sport was so good it was foolish to tramp ten miles to waylay some unwary and distant trout. And indeed this logic appeared to be sound, for not once did the anglers return from one of their brief tours that they did not bring with them baskets well lined with yellow perch, trout, or land-loch salmon.
As a consequence the Doctor managed to keep very close watch of his son, and Theo saw a great deal both of his father and Mr. Croyden.
The friendship of the latter for the sick lad was no empty pose.
He sincerely liked Theo—liked his manliness and his intelligence; his brave attempt at unselfishness; his boyish love of fun.
Mr. Croyden was very fond of boys and, in fact, often betrayed the circumstance that in reality he himself had never really grown up.
Accordingly he sought Theo out whenever he had leisure, and many a happy hour did the two spend together.
One day when he chanced to be sitting beside the invalid's couch Theo said:
"You told me once that there were three famous potters in history, and that Palissy was one of them; who were the others?"
"If I should tell you their names and nothing more about them it would be only so much dry sawdust," was Mr. Croyden's reply. "The only reason they were great was because of what they did; and that is a long story."