“‘Where’s Bob?’ says he, looking all around.

“‘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 burned it up.’

“He seemed then just beginning to realise that something extraordinary had happened.

“‘Stark,’ says he, ‘what’s the matter with ye? You’re changed.’

“‘Yes,’ says I, ‘I wear my beard now, and I’ve grown older!’

“‘Dumbed if ’t a’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 practising 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?’