THE DAWN COMES, AND MY UNCLE APPEARS IN A NEW SILK HAT

I

Throughout my student days I had not seen my uncle. I refrained from
going to him in spite of an occasional regret that in this way I
estranged myself from my aunt Susan, and I maintained a sulky attitude
of mind towards him. And I don't think that once in all that time I gave
a thought to that mystic word of his that was to alter all the world
for us. Yet I had not altogether forgotten it. It was with a touch of
memory, dim transient perplexity if no more--why did this thing seem in
some way personal?--that I read a new inscription upon the hoardings:

THE SECRET OF VIGOUR,
TONO-BUNGAY.

That was all. It was simple and yet in some way arresting. I found
myself repeating the word after I had passed; it roused one's attention
like the sound of distant guns. "Tono"--what's that? and deep, rich,
unhurrying;--"BUN--gay!"

Then came my uncle's amazing telegram, his answer to my hostile
note: "Come to me at once you are wanted three hundred a year certain
tono-bungay."

"By Jove!" I cried, "of course!

"It's something--. A patent-medicine! I wonder what he wants with me."