Then, gently: "And did you always live there--on the mountain ?" "Six years, father said." "But what did you do all day?
Weren't you ever--lonesome ?" "Lonesome ?" The boy's eyes were puzzled.
"Yes.

Didn't you miss things--people, other houses, boys of your own age, and--and such things ?" David's eyes widened.
"Why, how could I ?" he cried.

"When I had daddy, and my violin, and my Silver Lake, and the whole of the great big woods with everything in them to talk to, and to talk to me ?" "Woods, and things in them to--to TALK to you!" "Why, yes.

It was the little brook, you know, after the squirrel, that told me about being dead, and--" "Yes, yes; but never mind, dear, now," stammered the woman, rising hurriedly to her feet--the boy was a little wild, after all, she thought.

"You--you should go to bed.