the evening, and I had come down with my fishing-rod (for I had
promised Boy Jim to go with him to the mill-stream), when what
should I see but a post-chaise with two smoking horses at the gate,
and there in the open door of it were my mother's black skirt and
her little feet jutting out, with two blue arms for a waist-belt,
and all the rest of her buried in the chaise. Away I ran for the
motto, and I pinned it up on the bushes as we had agreed, but when I
had finished there were the skirts and the feet and the blue arms
just the same as before.

"Here's Rod," said my mother at last, struggling down on to the
ground again. "Roddy, darling, here's your father!"

I saw the red face and the kindly, light-blue eyes looking out at
me.

"Why, Roddy, lad, you were but a child and we kissed good-bye when
last we met; but I suppose we must put you on a different rating
now. I'm right glad from my heart to see you, dear lad; and as to
you, sweetheart--"

The blue arms flew out, and there were the skirt and the two feet
fixed in the door again.

"Here are the folk coming, Anson," said my mother, blushing. "Won't
you get out and come in with us?"

And then suddenly it came home to us both that for all his cheery
face he had never moved more than his arms, and that his leg was
resting on the opposite seat of the chaise.