"'How are you, my boy?' says he; 'I'm glad to see you. Here am I,
an old man, nipped by the leg, and much wanting to talk to
somebody.'

"I passed the time of day to him, but felt kind of blue. This
didn't look like keeping my word with the kids. I really hated to
say anything to the old man, knowing his disposition; still I felt
I had to, and I out with my story.

"'Dear! dear!' says he. 'The hurry and skurry of young folks! How
idle it seems when you get fifty years away from it, and see how
little anything counts! For all that, I thank God,' says he, 'that
there's a little red left in my blood yet, which makes me
sympathise with them. But the girl's people object you say?'

"I made that all clear to him. The girl's _always_ all right,
Father,' says I, 'and as for the man in this case, my word for him.'

"Now it ain't just the right thing for me to say, but seeing as
I've never had anything in particular to be modest about, and I'm
proud of what the old gentleman told me, I'm going to repeat it.

"'Your word is good for me, Red,' says he. 'You're a mischievous
boy at times, but your heart and your head are both reliable; give
me your arm to the waggon.'

"Then I felt mighty sorry to think of lugging that poor old man all
that ways.