they had swallowed the interval of time which had gone by since they
left, so precisely the same was the moment of their leaving and that
of their coming back. I knew grand'ther no better than when I saw him
first. He was sociable to those who visited the house, but never with
those abiding in his family. Me he never noticed, except when I ate
less than usual; then he peered into my face, and said, "What ails
you?" We had the benefit of his taciturn presence continually, for he
rarely went out; and although he did not interfere with Aunt Mercy's
work, he supervised it, weighed and measured every article that was
used, and kept the cellar and garden in perfect order.

It was approaching the season of killing the pig, and he conferred
often with Aunt Mercy on the subject. The weather was watched, and the
pig poked daily, in the hope that the fat was thickening on his ribs.
When the day of his destiny arrived, there was almost confusion in the
house, and for a week after, of evenings, grand'ther went about with a
lantern, and was not himself till a new occupant was obtained for the
vacant pen, and all his idiosyncracies revealed and understood.

"Grand'ther," I asked, "will the beautiful pigeons that live in the
pig's roof like the horrid new pig?"

"Yes," he answered, briskly rubbing his hands, "but they eat the pig's
corn; and I can't afford that; I shall have to shoot them, I guess."

"Oh, don't, grand'ther."

"I will this very day. Where's the gun, Mercy?"

In an hour the pigeons were shot, except two which had flown away.