had begun to do very well.

Not far from it was the coziest of old stone houses, and over it Sallie
presided. It stood among great trees, and was surrounded by a fine fruit
garden, and was prettily furnished throughout; besides which, and best
of all, _it was their own_--a New Year's gift from the kindest of
grandfathers and uncles. People now have got well used to seeing the
Brothers Morrison.

They are rarely met apart. They go to market and to the city together.
What they buy they buy in unison, and every bill of sale they give bears
both their names. Sandy is the ruling spirit, but Davie never suspects,
for Sandy invariably says to all propositions, "If my brother David
agrees, I do," or, "If brother David is satisfied, I have no more to
say," etc.

Some of the villagers have tried to persuade them that they must be
lonely, but they know better than that. Old men love a great deal of
quiet and of gentle meandering retrospection; and David and Sandy have
each of them forty years' history to tell the other. Then they are both
very fond of young Sandy and the children.

Sandy's projects and plans and building contracts are always well talked
over at the farm before they are signed, and the children's lessons and
holidays, and even their new clothes, interest the two old men almost as
much as they do Sallie.

As for Sallie, you would scarcely know her. She is no longer cross with
care and quarrelsome with hunger. I always did believe that prosperity
was good for the human soul, and Sallie Morrison proves the theory. She