nd sit ye down, and let me look at you."

Samuel was soon seated, with the whole household gathered round him.

"It _is_ his own self, for sure," said Betty. "O Sammul, I never
thought to see you no more."

"I should scarce have knowed you, had I met you on the road," said his
father, "you're so much altered."

"Ay," said his sister; "he's gotten a beard to his face, and he's taller
and browner like, but his eye's the same--he's our Sammul, sure enough.
You'll not be for flitting again for a-while," she said, looking at him
half playfully and half in earnest.

"No," he replied; "I've had flitting enough for a bit. But eh, Betty,
you've growed yourself into a gradely woman. And this is your husband,
I reckon, and these are your childer; have you any more?"

"No," said John Walters; "these two are all. Well, you're heartily
welcome, Samuel. I'm glad to see you. Betty'll leave fretting now."

"Ay, and fayther too," cried Betty. "O Sammul, I am _so_ glad to see
you. I've prayed, and fayther's prayed too, scores of times; and he's
had more faith nor me--though we've both begun to lose heart--but we've
never forgot ye, Sammul. Oh, I shall be happy now. The Lord's too good
to me," she said, with deep emotion; "as the blessed Book says, `My cup
runneth over'--ay, it do for sure--I've got the best husband as ever
woman had, (you needn't be frowning, John, it's true); and I've got
fayther, and they're both total abstainers, and gradely Christians too,
and now I've got our Sammul."

"And he's a total abstainer," said Samuel, "and, he humbly hopes, a
gradely Christian."

"Oh, that's best, that's best of all," cried his sister, again throwing
her arms around him. "Oh, Sammul, I _am_ so glad to see you--you can't
wonder, for you're all the brothers I have, and I'm all the sisters
_you_ have; you can't wonder at it, John."

"I'm not wondering at anything but the Lord's goodness," said her
husband, in a husky voice, and wiping his eyes.

"Here, Sammul," exclaimed Betty to her eldest child, "get on your Uncle
Sammul's knee, and hug him with all your might. Eh! I didn't think
this morn as I should have to tell you to say `Uncle Sammul.' He's
called arter yourself. If you hadn't been off, he'd a been John or
Thomas, maybe. But our John knowed how I longed to have him called
Sammul, so we've called the babe John Thomas, arter the fayther and
grandfayther. And now you'll want your tea, and then we must all have