She had heard of him, though, having paid a
visit to Widow Thrale in the country, where he got well after the
Hospital.

This was a signal for Dave to find his voice, and he embarked with
animation on a variegated treatment of subjects connected with his visit
to the country. A comparison of his affection for Widow Thrale and
Granny Marrable, with an undisguised leaning to the latter; a reference
to the lady with the rings, her equipage, and its driver's nose; Farmer
Jones's bull, and its untrustworthy temper; the rich qualities of
duckweed; the mill-model on the mantelshelf, and individualities of his
fellow-convalescents. This took time, although some points were only
touched lightly.

Possibly Uncle Moses thought it might prove prolix, as he said:--"If I
was a young shaver now, and ladies was to come to see me, I should get a
letter I was writing, to show 'em." The delicacy and tact with which
this suggestion was offered was a little impaired by Aunt
M'riar's:--"Yes, now you be a good boy, Dave, and ..." and so forth.

Many little boys would not have been so magnanimous as Dave, and would
have demurred or offered passive resistance. Dave merely removed Sister
Nora's arm rather abruptly from his neck, saying:--"Storp a minute!" and
ran up the stairs that opened on the kitchen where they were sitting.
There was more room there than in the little parlour.

Uncle Moses explained:--"You see, ladies, this here young Dave, for all
he's getting quite a scholar now, and can write any word he can spell,
yet he don't take to doing it quite on his own hook just yet a while. So
he gets round the old lady upstairs, for to let him set and write at her
table. Then she can tip him a wink now and again, when he gets a bit
fogged."

"That's Mrs. Picture," said Gwen, interested. But she did not speak loud
enough to invite correction of her pronunciation of the name, and Sister
Nora merely said:--"That's her!" and nodded. Dolly at once launched into
a vague narrative of a misadventure that had befallen her putative
offspring, the doll that Sister Nora had given her last year. Struvvel
Peter had met with an accident, his shock head having got in a
candle-flame in Mrs. Picture's room upstairs, so that he was quite
smooth before he could be rescued. The interest of this superseded other
matter.

"Davy he's a great favourite with the ladies," said Uncle Mo, as
Struvvel Peter subsided. "He ain't partic'lar to any age. Likes 'em a
bit