ng all round.

"'Bob?' says I, not thinking at first who he meant. Oh, Bob is dead--he
has been dead these three years.'

"Without noticing my reply, he exclaimed: 'Where did all that hay come
from? Where's the old meetin'-house?'

"'Don't you know?' says I. 'Some rogues set fire to it the night after
you got hurt, and burnt it up.'

"He seemed then just beginning to realize that something extraordinary
had happened.

"'Stark,' says he, 'what's the matter with ye? You're changed.'

"'Yes,' say I, 'I wear my beard now, and I've grown older!'

"'Dumbed if 'ta'n't odd!' says he. 'Stark, what in thunder's the matter
with _me?_

"'You've had meeting-house on the brain for the past four years,' says
I; 'that's what's the matter.'

"It was some time before I could make him understand that he had been
out of his head, and that so long a time had been a blank to him.

"Then he said, 'Is this my farm?'

"'Don't you know it?' says I.

"'It looks more slicked up than ever it used to,' says he.

"'Yes,' says I; 'and you'll find everything else on the place slicked up
in about the same way.'

"'Where's Dave?' says he.

"'Dave has gone to town to see about selling the wool.'

"'Where's Dan?'

"'Dan's in college. He takes a great notion to medicine; and we're going
to make a doctor of him.'

"'Whose house is that?' says he, as I was taking him home.

"'No wonder you don't know it,' says I. 'It has been painted, and
shingled, and had new blinds put on; the gates and fences are all in
prime condition; and that's a new barn we put up a couple of years ago.'

"'Where does the money come from, to make all these improvements?'

"'It comes off the place,' says I. 'We haven't run in debt the first
cent for anything, but we've made the farm more profitable than it ever
was before.'

"'That _my_ house?' he repeated wonderingly, as we approached it. 'What
sound is that?'

"'That's Lottie practicing her lesson on the piano.'

"'A pianer in my house?' he muttered. 'I can't stand that!' He listened.
'It sounds pooty, though!'

"'Yes, it does sound pretty, and I guess you'll like it How does the
place suit you?'

"'It _looks_ pooty.' He started. 'What young lady is that?'

"It was Lottie, who had left her music and stood by the window.

"'My dahter! ye don't say! Dumbed if she a'n't a mighty nice gal.'

"'Yes,' says I; 'she takes after her mother.'

"Just then Susie, who heard talking, ran to the door.

"'Who'