how that walk recalled to him the memories of other days, which came
thronging about him as one by one familiar way-marks appeared,
reminding him of his childhood, when he roamed over that
mountain-side with those who were now scattered far and wide, some on
the deep, blue sea, some at the distant west, and others far away
across the dark river of death. He had mingled much with the world
since last he had traversed that road, and his heart had grown
callous and indifferent, but he was not entirely hardened, and when
at the "turn" in the road, he came suddenly upon the tall walnut
tree, on whose shaggy bark his name was carved, together with that of
another--a maiden--he started as if smitten with a heavy blow, and
dashing a tear from his eye he exclaimed "Oh that I were a boy again!"

From her seat on the mossy rock 'Lena had been watching him. She was
very ardent and impulsive, strong in her likes and dislikes, but
quite ready to change the latter if she saw any indications of
improvement in the person disliked. For her uncle she had conceived
a great aversion, and when she saw him approaching, thrusting aside
the thistles and dandelions with his gold-headed cane, she mimicked
his motions, wondering "if he didn't feel big because he wore a large
gold chain dangling from his jacket pocket."

But when she saw his emotions beneath the walnut tree, her opinion
suddenly changed. "A very bad man wouldn't cry," she thought, and
springing to his side, she grasped his hand, exclaiming, "I know you
are my Uncle John, and I'm real glad you've come. Granny thought you
never would, and grandpa asks for you all the time."

Had his buried sister arisen before him, Mr. Livingstone would hardly
have been more startled, for in form and feature 'Lena was exactly