ever heard.

Jim was a born minstrel.

From beginning to end, he sang that never-dying, baby melody of the
master-craftsman, Robert Louis Stevenson, with a feeling true to every
word of it and emphasising particularly the parts which he fancied
applied especially to Phil.

"_I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,_
_And what can be the use of it is more than I can see._
He's very, very like me from the heels up to the head,
And I see him jump before me when I jump into my bed.
The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow,
Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow,
For he sometimes shoots up taller, like an India rubber ball,
_And he sometimes gets so little that there's none of him at all_.

"He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play,
_And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way_.
_He stays so close beside me, he's a coward you can see,_
_I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me._
One morning, bright and early, before the sun was up,
I rose and found the shining dew on every butter-cup
But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head
Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed."

There were few people about when Jim began his singing, but a
considerable crowd was gathered long before he finished.

Suddenly a little fair-haired girl came up to him with a show of
bashfulness. He put his hand on her curls.

"What is't?" he asked. "Tell me;--ye need never be feart for me."

"Please--please, sir,--that was a nice song and mother says would you
sing it to us at our social to--to-night?"

"Sing it,--of course I'll sing it. Just you tell your Uncle Jim where
to come, and I'll be there. What social is it, bairnie?"

"Please--it's the Salvation Army."

"Oh-h!" groaned Jim, clutching at his forelock. But he held manfully
to his contract. "What time would ye like me to be there, lassie?"

"Mother says, please nine o'clock."

"Nine o'clock at the barracks! Right you are! I'll be there, and I'll
sing 'My Shadow.'"

"Please--and what is your name?" she inquired, in a business-like
way.

"My name!--let me see,--oh, ay! Uncle Jim,--just plain Uncle Jim!"

"And you'll come sure?" she asked.

"Yes, bairnie!--I'll come sure."

The little girl ran off, evidently highly pleased at the addition she
had made to the programme for their social meeting.

Phil gripped Jim by th