shiny boss you could rub clean and give an
appearance. Aunt M'riar said so, and must have known.
Uncle Moses shook his head gravely over his own delinquency, as if he
truly felt it just as much as anybody. But when he got his pipe lighted,
instead of being cheerful and making the most of what the doctor had
said that very day, his spirits went down into his boots, which was a
way they had.
"'Tain't any good to make believe," said he. "Supposin' our boy never
comes back, M'riar!"
"There, now!" said Aunt M'riar. "To hear you talk, Mo, wouldn't anybody
think! And after what Dr. Prime said only this afternoon! I should be
ashamed."
"What was it Dr. Prime said, Mo?" asked Mr. Alibone, quite
cheerful-like. "Tell us again, old man." For you see, Uncle Moses he'd
brought back quite an encouraging report, whatever anyone see fit to
say, when he come back from the Hospital. Dr. Prime was the
House-Surgeon.
"I don't take much account of him," said Uncle Mo. "A well-meanin' man,
but too easy by half. One o' your good-natured beggars. Says a thing to
stuff you up like! For all I could see, my boy was as white as that bit
of trimmin' in your hand, M'riar."
"But won't you tell us what the doctor _said_, Mo?" said Mr. Alibone. "I
haven't above half heard the evening's noose." He'd just come in to put
a little heart into Moses.
"Said the little child had a better colour. But I don't set any store by
that." And then what does Uncle Moses do but reg'lar give away and go
off sobbing like a baby. "Oh, M'riar, M'riar, we shall never have our
boy back--no, never!"
And then Aunt M'riar, who was a good woman if ever Mr. Alibone come
across one--this is what that gentleman could and did tell a friend
after, incorporated verbatim in the text--she up and she says:--"For
shame of yourself, Mo, for to go and forget yourself like that before
Mr. Alibone! I tell you I believe we shall have the boy back in a week,
all along o' what Dr. Prime said." On which, and a further
representation that he would wake Dolly if he went on like that, Uncle
Mo he pulled himself together and smoked quiet. Whereupon Aunt M'riar
dwelt upon the depressing effect a high wind in autumn has on the
spirits, with the singular result referred to above, of their
retractation into their owner's boots, like quicksilver in a thermometer
discouraged by the cold. After which professional experience was allowed
some weight, and calmer counsels prevailed.
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