racing, wrestling, and putting on grotesque grimaces.

Charlotte, the youngest child, now came to the shop to say that supper was
ready.

"C-come, boys, you've ha-had play enough," said Mr. Hardwick. "J-James,
put Ch-Charlotte down. M-M-Milton, it's close on to S-Sabba'day. Now w-
wash yourselves."

Just as the merriment was highest, Charlotte standing on James's
shoulders, and Milton chasing them, while the blacksmith was looking on,--
his honest face glistening with soap and good-humor,--Mildred Kinloch
passed by on her way home from a walk by the river. She looked towards the
shop-door and bowed to Mr. Hardwick.

"G-good evenin', M-Miss Mildred," said he; "I'm g-glad to see you lookin'
so ch-cheerful."

The tone was hearty, and with a dash of chivalrous sentiment rarely heard
in a smithy. His look of half-parental, half-admiring fondness was
touching to see.

"Oh, Uncle Ralph," she replied, "I am never melancholy when I see you. You
have all the cheerfulness of this spring day in your face."

"Y-yes, I hev to stay here in the old shop; b-but I hear the b-birds in
the mornin', and all day I f-feel as ef I was out under the b-blue sky,
an' rejoicin' with all livin' creaturs in the sun and the s-sweet air of
heaven."