He met him as if he had only been a few hours away, and he had so tutored Jenny that she only betrayed her joy by a look which David and she understood well.
"The little folks," said John, "have a' gane to their beds; the day has been that wet and wearisome that they were glad to gae to sleep and forget a' about it." David sat down in his old place, and the two men talked of the Russian war and the probable storming of the Alamo.

Then John took his usual after-dinner nap, and David went up stairs with Jenny and kissed his children, and said a few words to them and to the old woman, which made them all very happy.
When he returned to the parlor his uncle was still sleeping, and he could see how weary and worn he had become.
"So patient, so generous, so honorable, so considerate for my feelings," said the young man to himself.

"I should be an ingrate indeed if I did not, as soon as he wakes, say what I know he is so anxious to hear." With the thought John opened his eyes, and David nodded and smiled back to him.

How alert and gladly he roused himself! How cheerily he said, "Why, Davie, I hae been sleeping, I doot.

Hech, but it is gude to see you, lad." "Please God, uncle, it shall always be gude to see me.