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All the way home Milt exulted, "I put it all over him. I wasn't scared by the 'Don't butt into the aristocracy, my young friend' stuff. I lied handsome. But Darn it, now I'll have to live up to my New England aristocracy.... Wonder if my grand-dad's dad was a hired man or a wood-sawyer?... Ne' mine; I'm Daggett of Daggett from now on."
And it was Joe Clark, despite all he had gone through, who carried me in his great strong arms from the beach to his grand-dad's cottage, crooning over me like a mother. It was Joe who fed me with warm liquids. It was Joe I saw when I opened my eyes once more to the material world. "Shake hands, old man," he said brokenly, "if mine ain't too black. Used to think I hated you, George.
The old man and his sturdy grandchild were rare intimates, and never so happy as when wandering together about the yards and farm-buildings and pastures, the child, silent and absorbed, as he clutched his grand-dad's big brown finger. The pair did not talk much: they were too content. But there was one often-repeated conversation which took place between them as they strolled.
And in fact from the first the lad's soul hankered after the broad lands of Leicestershire rather than the counting-house in Threadneedle Street. His happiest days were spent as a child on his grand-dad's farm, amid the great horses, and sweet-breathed kine, and golden stacks. "Back to the land," as his grandfather was fond of saying, was the child's unspoken motto.
I concluded, "that will be my excuse when I come over with the medicine for your grand-dad's chronic complaint, dumbness. So, don't say a word about it until I get over." The Rev. William Auld ran in early that afternoon. He was all excitement. "George, I saw Margaret and I have fixed her. Poor woman, she is as nervous as a kitten and as worried as a mother cat, fearing we may hurt Andrew.
Comparative To those related in my grand-dad's narrative. In June, 1764, Byron sailed with two ships, the "Dolphin" and the "Tamar," on a voyage of discovery arranged by Lord Egmont, to seek a southern continent, in the course of which he took possession of the largest of the Falkland Islands, again passed through the Magellanic Straits, and sailing home by the Pacific, circumnavigated the globe.
Jim Silver, thwarted in his desire to acquire his grandfather's farm, rented a little hunting-box near by instead. There he kept his weight-carriers, and there during the hunting season he spent his week-ends and occasional holidays. Since the days when he walked his grand-dad's farm as a child, his ambitions had changed in degree but not in kind.
She's a good lass and you ain't playin' the game fair. "I didn't hear any more, for I ran out. Didn't go back either, till Joe cleared out." "What relation is Joe to the others, Rita?" I asked in puzzlement. "Joe's an orphan, same as me. His dad was grand-dad's only son, who got killed in a blasting accident up the coast. Joe's mother was a Swede. She died two months after Joe was born.
"What put that funny question into your head?" She became serious. "Well, if I thought you were, I wouldn't come back for any more Grammar." "Why?" I asked. "Joe's not very well pleased about it. Guess he thinks nobody should be able to speak better'n he can." "Oh! never mind Joe," I exclaimed. "He'll come round, and your grand-dad's consent is all you need anyway." "Sure!
Vancouver, Victoria, Seattle, San Francisco, Los Angeles, all the big cities in the States right through to New York, then back again over the Great Lakes, across the Western Prairies, up over the Rockies and home: home to the pretty bungalow that was already well on the way toward completion, out there on the promontory just below their grand-dad's place.
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