I am sure of this.
My home, of course, was with my instructor, guide, and inspirer, Uncle Lauder--he who had done so much to make me romantic, patriotic, and poetical at eight.

Now I was twenty-seven, but Uncle Lauder still remained Uncle Lauder.

He had not shrunk, no one could fill his place.
We had our walks and talks constantly and I was "Naig" again to him.
He had never had any name for me but that and never did have.

My dear, dear uncle, and more, much more than uncle to me.[23] [Footnote 23: "This uncle, who loved liberty because it is the heritage of brave souls, in the dark days of the American Civil War stood almost alone in his community for the cause which Lincoln represented." (Hamilton Wright Mabie in _Century Magazine_, vol.64, p.

958.)] I was still dreaming and so excited that I could not sleep and had caught cold in the bargain.