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During the afternoon the merits of the pig were sung and re-sung, and at last Wilson, after kissing his friend on the cheek and whispering, "I like you, Uncle Man-on-the-Hill," took his teddy-bear under his arm and plodded homeward. The next morning he came again, but mournfully and slow. There were tear stains on the little round cheeks.
"When may I expect an answer, Phyllis?" he said at length. "You know why my question has been so long delayed. I shall not attempt to excuse myself. I have been very, very foolish. But to-day I am very, very wise. May I also be very, very happy?" He had taken her hands in his, and as she did not resist he drew her gently to him. "Little Willie christened me The Man-on-the-Hill," he whispered.
This time she had not called him "The Man-on-the-Hill," and there was no suggestion of playfulness in the note. Then the signature, "Yours, Zen"; that might mean everything, or it might mean nothing. Either it was purely formal or it implied a very great deal indeed.
I see you towering above all your fellow humans; reaching up into a heaven so far above them that they don't even know of its existence. I see you as really The Man-On-the-Hill, with a vision which lays all this selfish, commonplace world at your feet. The idealism which I thought must fade away is justified heightened by the reality."
"You have to catch me now," he shouted in high glee. "One, two " Evidently it was a game, and Grant entered into the spirit of it, finally running Wilson to earth on the farthest corner of the kitchen table. To adjust the pyjamas was, as Grant confessed, a bigger job than harnessing a four-horse team, but at length it was completed. "You must hear my prayer, Uncle Man-on-the-Hill," said the boy.
That afternoon, which was Saturday, the boy came thoughtfully and with an air of much importance. Delving into a pocket he produced an envelope, somewhat crumpled in transit. It was addressed, "The Man on the Hill." Grant tore it open eagerly and read this note: "DEAR MAN-ON-THE-HILL, That is the name Wilson calls you, so perhaps you will let me use it, too.
In the growing light he could see the moisture in her bright eyes glisten, and it seemed to him this wild, daring daughter of the hills had never been lovelier than in this moment of confession and of high resolve. "I am so glad," she repeated, "for your sake and for my own. Now, again, you are really the Man-on-the-Hill. We have been in the valley of late.
"But I can't, Willie; I have forgotten." "Huh, you don't know much," the child commented, and glibly quoted the remaining lines. "And God bless Daddy and Mamma and teddy-bear and Uncle Man-on-the-Hill and the pig. Amen," he concluded, accompanying the last word with a jump which landed him fairly in Grant's lap.
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