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'Laughing with kindly mirth, the old man drew on his woollen gloves and took up his hat and the violin-bag. Then he offered to say good-bye. "But you're forgetting your top-coat, grandad," said Lydia. "I didn't come in it, my dear." "What's that, then? I'm sure we don't wear such things." She pointed to a chair, on which Thyrza had just artfully spread the gift. Mr.
'She shall cure me of my sharp temper and you of grumbling, grandad; and I know which 'll be the hardest job! Laughing with kindly mirth, the old man drew on his woollen gloves and took up his hat and the violin-bag. Then he offered to say good-bye. 'But you're forgetting your top-coat, grandad, said Lydia. 'I didn't come in it, my dear. 'What's that, then? I'm sure we don't wear such things.
He removed the violin-bag carefully from his back and threw himself on the ground and took from his pocket a great pipe. With a little sigh the boy sat down beside him. The man nodded good-naturedly. "Ja, that is right." He blew a puff of smoke toward the morning clouds; "the Bachs do not hurry, my child no more does the sun." The boy smiled proudly.
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