boy's great eyes swept glowingly from his cousin's face to mine and back
again. I bowed and shook hands with the air, once to my left and once to
my right. "And Simpledoria!" cried Mister Swift. "You'll enjoy
Simpledoria."

"Above all things," I said. "Can he shake hands? Some dogs can."

"Watch him!"

Mister Swift lifted a commanding finger. "Simpledoria, shake hands!"

I knelt beside the wagon and shook an imaginary big paw. At this Mister
Swift again shook hands with me and allowed me to perceive, in his
luminous regard, a solemn commendation and approval.

In this wise was my initiation into the beautiful old house and the
cordiality of its inmates completed; and I became a familiar of David
Beasley and his ward, with the privilege to go and come as I pleased;
there was always gay and friendly welcome. I always came for the cigar
after lunch, sometimes for lunch itself; sometimes I dined there instead
of down-town; and now and then when it happened that an errand or
assignment took me that way in the afternoon, I would run in and "visit"
awhile with Hamilton Swift, Junior, and his circle of friends.

There were days, of course, when his attacks were upon him, and only
Beasley and the doctor and old Bob saw him; I do not know what the boy's
mental condition was at such times; but when he was better, and could be
wheeled about the house and again receive callers, he displayed an
almost dismaying activity of mind--it was active enough, certainly, to
keep far ahead of my own. And he was masterful: still, Beasley and