"The last one who called me by my front name is dead, David. John was
his name. I called him Johnny."

David looked at him with wide eyes, silent. Dr. Lavendar took his pipe
out of his mouth, and stared for a minute at the fire.

"I should think," David said sadly, "God would be discouraged to have
_everybody_ He makes, die."

At that Dr. Lavendar came quickly out of his reverie. "Oh, it's better
that way," he said, cheerfully. "One of these days I'll tell you why.
What do you say to a game of dominoes?"

David squeaked with pleasure. Then he paused to say: "Is that lady,
Alice's aunt?" and Dr. Lavendar had to recall who "Alice" was before
he could say "yes." Then a little table was pulled up, and the
dominoes were poured out upon it, with a joyful clatter. For the next
half hour they were both very happy. In the midst of it David
remarked, thoughtfully: "There are two kinds of aunts. One is bugs.
She is the other kind." And after Dr. Lavendar had stopped chuckling
they discussed the relative merits of standing the dominoes upright,
or putting them on their sides, and Dr. Lavendar built his fence in
alternate positions, which was very effective. It was so exciting that
bedtime was a real trial to them both. At the last stroke of eight
David clenched both hands.

"Perhaps the clock is fast?"

Dr. Lavendar compared it with his watch, and shook his head
sympathetically. "No; just right. Tumble 'em back into the box. Good