he same again?"

Lucien answered with a prim, "Oh, yes--sometimes."

William went on, "Don't it grip your heart--don't it? We'd be sitting
there--the house is built on pretty high ground, and on one side
there's quite a valley, with a little stream running through it; they
call it a river, but it ain't; and lots of big trees, and some willows.
And our old friend, the moon, would be glummerin' around, and making
paths on the water, and you'd hear the frogs, and crickets, and
sometimes the creaking that the wagons would make as they passed.
That's all; there wouldn't be another sound for a while, and then
Emerson'd begin to recite, or George would play the banjo, or Laird
would tell us stories about them old fighters long ago. And all of 'em
know the names of the stars--whatjer think of that?--and they'd talk
about them like they were old friends, especially their Dad, for he
came from Scotland and was a sailor. Oh! it was great--great. Then
some one would begin to sing, and everybody would join in the chorus.
First, they'd sing somer the new songs; then the comic ones; then it
would be 'Annie Laurie,' 'Will ye no come back again,' 'The Low-backed
Car,' 'Willie, we have missed you,' 'Nellie Grey,' 'My Old Kentucky
Home'--all the old-timers. I'd join in too, and one night when we were
singing 'Will ye no come back again,' that think tank of mine got outer
gear someway, and starts a hammerin' on one thought: 'It'll never be
the same again--never--never--never,' and it made me feel bad, I tell
you, but I went on singing. I had that kinder feeling three or four
times after. It sounds crazy, don't it, Lucien? but, oh, it's true,
it's true! But, don't you forget it, I had a bully time. I don't know
when I really liked it most; in the early morning, when everything's
bright and fresh, or at night, when it's still, like I'm tellin' you.
There's one thing I noticed about the nights, too, that got me going."

"What's that?"

"The stars. Say, Lucien, they seem to be so much closer than they do
in the city; and more of 'em: that's because there ain't so many
buildings, and you can see more sky. Sally used to say----"

"Sally!"

"Yes, Sally! she's the youngest, and at that she's a little older'n I
am. And there ain't no mother in that house, because their mother died
just when Sally was a kiddie, and they're all mothers and fathers to
her."

"William--is it----?"

"Now, hold on, Lucien; hold on. Don't bite on an