ar you were at, like I done?"

A suspicious moisture gathered in the doctor's eyes, and he sprang up
and went to examine earnestly a thorny shrub some paces away, while the
child continued to pipe his questions, for the most part unanswerable.
"You reckon God just gin my neck er twist so't brothah David would take
me to Canada to you, an' so't maw'd 'low me to go? You reckon if I'm
right good, He'll 'low me to make a picture o' th' ocean some day, like
the one we seed in that big house? You reckon if I tried right hard I
could paint a picture o' th' mountain, yandah--an' th' sea--an'--all
the--all the--ships?"

The doctor laughed heartily and merrily. "Come, come. We must go home
now to Cassandra and the baby. Paint? Of--of course you could paint! You
could paint p--pictures enough to fill a house."

"We don't want no magic man, do we, Doctah Hoyle? I cried a heap after I
seed myself in the big lookin'-glass down in Farington whar brothah
David took me. I cried when hit war dark an' maw war sleepin'. Next time
I reckon I bettah tell God much obleeged fer twistin' my hade 'roun'
'stead er cryin' an' takin' on like I been doin'. You reckon so, Doctah
Hoyle?"

"Yes--yes--yes. I reckon so," said the doctor, meditatively, as they
descended the trail. From that day the child's strength increased. Sunny
and buoyant, he shook off the thought of his deformity, and his
beauty-loving soul ceased introspective brooding and found delight in
searching out beauty, and in his creative faculty.

CHAPTER XXVIII

IN WHICH FRALE RETURNS TO THE MOUNTAINS

Doctor Hoyle lingered until the last of the laurel bloom was gone, and
the widow had become so absorbed in her grandchild as to make the
parting much easier. Then he took the small Adam and departed for the
North. Never did the kind old man dream that his frail and twisted
little namesake would one day be the pride of his life and the comfort
of his declining years.

"Hoyle sure do look a heap bettah'n when Doctah David took him off that
day. Hit did seem like I'd nevah see him again. Don't you guess 'at he's
beginnin' to grow some? Seems like he do."

The widow was seated on her little porch with the doctor, the evening
before they left, and Cassandra, who, since the birth of the heir, had
been living again in her own little cabin, had brought the baby down. He
lay on his grandmother's lap quietly sleeping, while his mother gathered
Hoyle's treasures, and packed his dim