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The Pot of Gold - And Other Stories by Mary E. Wilkins
page 164 of 231 (70%)
There was something about the tall, curly-headed, pleasant-eyed young
man which won his boyish heart at once.

"Glad to see you, sir," uncle Frank said in his loud, merry voice;
then he gave Willy's little slim hand a big shake, as if it were a
man's.

He was further prepossessed in his favor when, after tea, he begged to
take him over to the store and show him around before he went to
bed. Grandma had suggested his going directly to bed, as he must
be fatigued with the journey, but uncle Frank pleaded for fifteen
minutes' grace, so Willy went to view the store.

It was almost directly opposite uncle Frank's house, and uncle Frank
and his father kept it. It was in a large old building, half of which
was a dwelling-house where uncle Frank's parents lived, and where he
had lived himself before he was married. The store was a large country
one, and there was a post-office and an express office connected with
it. Uncle Frank and his father were store-keepers and postmasters and
express-agents.

The jolly new uncle gave Willy some sticks of peppermint and
winter-green candy out of the glass jars, in the store-window, and
showed him all around. He introduced him to his father, and took him
into the house to see his mother. They made much of him, as strangers
always did.

"They said I must call them Grandpa and Grandma Perry," he told his
own grandmother when he got home.

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