The last
time I saw him asleep was nine years ago, a sickly little pale-faced
boy, in his little cot, and now, sir, that I see him again, strong and
handsome and all that a fond father can wish to see a boy, I should be an
ungrateful villain, James, if I didn't do what you said just now, and
thank God Almighty for restoring him to me."
Binnie did not laugh any more. "By George! Tom Newcome," said he, "you're
just one of the saints of the earth. If all men were like you there'd be
an end of both our trades; and there would be no fighting and no
soldiering, no rogues, and no magistrates to catch them." The Colonel
wondered at his friend's enthusiasm, who was not used to be
complimentary; indeed what so usual with him as that simple act of
gratitude and devotion about which his comrade spoke to him? To ask a
blessing for his boy was as natural to him as to wake with the sunrise,
or to go to rest when the day was over. His first and his last thought
was always the child.
The two gentlemen were home in time enough to find Clive dressed, and his
uncle arrived for breakfast. The Colonel said a grace over that meal; the
life was begun which he had longed and prayed for, and the son smiling
before his eyes who had been in his thoughts for so many fond years.
If my memory serves me right it was at about this time that I, the humble
biographer of Mr.
Pages:
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303