ke you a comfortable old man.'

'Ah! How you do please me!' said the farmer, with a horrified smile, and
grasping the arms of his chair to sustain himself.

'Yes; I have been meaning to come a long time, as I knew you'd like to
have me, Uncle Benjy; and 'tisn't in my heart to refuse you.'

'You always was kind that way!'

'Yes; I always was. But I ought to tell you at once, not to disappoint
you, that I shan't be here always--all day, that is, because of my
military duties as a cavalry man.'

'O, not always? That's a pity!' exclaimed the farmer with a cheerful
eye.

'I knew you'd say so. And I shan't be able to sleep here at night
sometimes, for the same reason.'

'Not sleep here o' nights?' said the old gentleman, still more relieved.
'You ought to sleep here--you certainly ought; in short, you must. But
you can't!'

'Not while we are with the colours. But directly that's over--the very
next day--I'll stay here all day, and all night too, to oblige you, since
you ask me so very kindly.'

'Th-thank ye, that will be very nice!' said Uncle Benjy.

'Yes, I knew 'twould relieve ye.' And he kindly stroked his uncle's
head, the old man expressing his enjoyment at the affectionate token by a
death's-head grimace. 'I should have called to see you the other night
when I passed through here,' Festus continued; 'but it was so late that I
couldn't come so far out of my way. You won't think it unkind?'

'Not at all, if you _couldn't_. I never shall think it unkind if you
really _can't_ come, you know, Festy.' There was a few minutes' pause,
and as the nephew said nothing Uncle Benjy went on: 'I wish I had a
little present for ye. But as ill-luck would have it we have lost a deal
of stock this year, and I have had to pay away so much.'

'Poor old man--I know you have. Shall I lend you a seven-shilling piece,
Uncle Benjy?'

'Ha, ha!--you must have your joke; well, I'll think o' that. And so they
expect Buonaparty to choose this very part of the coast for his landing,
hey? And that the yeomanry be to stand in front as the forlorn hope?'

'Who says so?' asked the florid son of Mars, losing a little redness.

'The newspaper-man.'

'O, there's nothing in that,' said Festus bravely. 'The gover'ment
thought it possible at one time; but they don't know.'

Festus turned himself as he talked, and now said abruptly: 'Ah, who's
this? Why, 'tis our little Anne!' He had not noticed her till this
moment, the y