mned for it), my uncle would stump the floor, making
gallant efforts to whistle and trill: by this exhorting himself to a
cheerful mood, so that when I had moved his great chair to the table,
with the lamp near and turned high, and had placed a stool for his
wooden leg, and had set his bottle and glass and little brown jug of
cold water conveniently at hand, his face would be pleasantly rippling
and his eyes all a-twinkle.

"Up with un, Dannie!" says he.

'Twas his fancy that he had gout in the tip of his wooden leg. I must
lift the ailing bit of timber to the stool with caution.

"Ouch!" groans he. "Easy, lad!"

'Twas now in place.

"All ship-shape an' cheerful," says he. "Pass the bottle."

He would then stand me up for catechism; and to this task I would come
with alacrity, and my heels would come together, and my shoulders
square, and my hands go behind my back, as in the line at school.
'Twas a solemn game, whatever the form it took, whether dealing with
my possessions, hopes, deportment, or what-not; and however grotesque
an appearance the thing may wear, 'twas done in earnest by us both and
with some real pains (when I was stupid or sleepy) to me. 'Twas the
way he had, too, of teaching me that which he would have me conceive
him to be--of fashioning in my heart and mind the character he would
there wear. A clumsy, forecastle method, and most pathetically
engaging, to be sure! but in effect unapproached: for to this day,
when I know him as he was, the man he would appear to be sticks in my
heart and will not be supplanted. Nor would I willingly yield the
wistful old dog's place to a gentleman of more brilliant parts.

"Dannie, lad," he would begin, in the manner of a visiting trustee,
but yet with a little twitch and flush of embarrassment, which must
be wiped away with his great bandanna handkerchief--"Dannie, lad,"
he would begin, "is ol' Nicholas Top a well-knowed figger in
Newf'un'land?"

"He's knowed," was the response I had been taught, "from Cape Race t'
Chidley."

"What for?"

"Standin' by."

So far so good; my uncle would beam upon me, as though the compliment
were of my own devising, until 'twas necessary once more to wipe the
smile and blush from his great wet countenance.

"Is it righteous," says he, "t' stand by?"

"'Tis that."

He would now lean close with his poser: "Does it say so in the Bible?
Ah ha, lad! Does it say so _there_?"

"'Twas left out," says I, having to this been