be to lie there and know as you have a son as can stop even _your_
rush wi' his left an' down you wi' his right as neat and proper, John,
as clean an' delicate as ever man saw. Man Jack, God bless him, and
here's my hand, John."

So, sitting there upon the floor, John Barty solemnly shook the hand
Natty Bell held out to him, which done, he turned and looked at his
son as though he had never seen him before.

"Why, Barnabas!" said he; then, for all his weight, sprang nimbly to
his feet and coming to the mantel took thence his pipe and began to
fill it, staring at Barnabas the while.

"Father," said Barnabas, advancing with hand outstretched, though
rather diffidently--"Father!"

John Barty pursed up his lips into a soundless whistle and went on
filling his pipe.

"Father," said Barnabas again, "I did it--as gently--as I could."
The pipe shivered to fragments on the hearth, and Barnabas felt his
fingers caught in his father's mighty grip.

"Why, Barnabas, lad, I be all mazed like; there aren't many men as
have knocked me off my pins, an' I aren't used to it, Barnabas, lad,
but 't was a clean blow, as Natty Bell says, and why--I be proud of
thee, Barnabas, an'--there y' are."

"Spoke like true fighting men!" said Natty Bell, standing with a
hand on the shoulder of each, "and, John, we shall see this lad,