"It would be a noble calling," he said, "but I ban't wanted by nobody I'm
afeard. I think I'll just bide here by this pleasant stream, till in the
fulness of time I be food for worms."

"Could Charles Augustus have a little of you?" asked The Seraph, sweetly.

"Ess Fay, he may have his share." It appeared that the story of Charles had
been told before Angel and I had arrived.

"Well, you're not going to be deserted," said Angel, in his lordly way,
"we'll just adopt you on our own. Mrs. Handsomebody won't let us have a
dog, nor a guinea pig, nor rabbits, nor even a white rat, but, you bet,
she's got to let us keep a grandfather, if we take him right home and say
he's come for a visit, and, of course, father'll have to pay for his board.
Let's do it, eh John?"

When Angel's eyes sparkled with a conquering light, few could resist him.
Certainly not I, his faithful adherent. Anyway I wanted Granfa myself
badly, so I nodded solemnly. "Let's."

"It'll be the greatest lark ever," he said, "and here comes the Bishop."

"Hand me my shoon, quick," said Granfa, nervously.

The Bishop was indeed coming slowly toward us, across the sun-lit meadow,
carrying his rod in one hand, and in the other the tin containing Charles
Augustus. By the time he had reached us Granfa had struggled into his boots
and was standing, hat in hand, with an air of meek expectancy. Angel,
always so fluent when we were by ourselves, balked at explaining things to
grown-ups, and, though the Bishop usually saw things from our point of
view, one could never be absolutely certain that even he would not prove
obtuse on such a delicate issue as this.

So I rose, and met his enquiring look with such explanation as suited his
adult understanding.

"Please, sir," I said, politely, "this nice old man has been turned out by
his grandsons, and he's on his way to town, where he's got some kind
grandsons--"

--"Fwee of 'em," put in The Seraph.

--"And we were wondering," I hurried on, "if you'd give him a lift that
far."

"I expect you're tired out," said the Bishop, kindly, turning to Granfa.

"I be none too peart, but terrible wishful to get under the roof o' my
grandsons, thank 'ee."

"You shall have a seat beside Harry; I see you've had some lunch; and now,
boys, I think we have time for an hour's fishing before we go, but first we
must dispose of Charles Augustus. I don't like the way he looks. I don't
know whether he's just foxy and pretending he'