in doin' for dumb things," he went on cheerfully. "They can't find fault
with the way you fix 'em." He chuckled a little.

The artist smiled. "Look here, Uncle William, you can't fool me any
longer. You're just pining for a boat. Look at that!" He waved his hand
at the water dimpling below.

Uncle William's gaze dwelt on it fondly for a minute.

"And you sit here dawdling over that basket of kittens!" Scorn and
disgust struggled in the artist's voice.

Uncle William laughed out. He stood up. "What is 't you want me to do?"
he asked.

The artist eyed him miserably. "That's the worst of it--I don't know."

"Well, I'll tell ye," said Uncle William. "We'll row down and get the
mail, and after that we'll plan about the boat. I ain't quite so daft as
I look," he said half apologetically. "I've been turnin' it over in my
mind whilst I've been doin' the kittens, and I've 'bout decided what to
do. But fust, we'll get the mail."




XXI

There was a letter for the artist. It contained a check from the
Frenchman. He had bought three of the pictures--the one of Uncle