Tempest and Sunshine

"You go long, you Bob," said Aunt Judy, seizing a lock of his wool between

her thumb and finger, "let me catch you not milking the heifer, and I'll

crack you."

Again there was the sound of laughter, and this time Judy dropped her

dishcloth, while Katy sprang up, saying, "'Tis, I know 'tis; any way, I'll

walk round thar as if for a little airin', and can see for myself."

Accordingly, old Katy appeared around the corner of the house just as Mr.

Middleton had spoken to his brother of his color. The moment Mr.

Stafford's eye rested on his old nurse, he knew her. Twenty years had not

changed her as much as it had him. Starting up he exclaimed, "Katy, dear

old mammy Katy," while she uttered a wild, exultant cry of joy, and

springing forward threw her thin, shriveled arms around his neck,

exclaiming, "My darling boy, my sweet Marster William. I knowed 'twas you.

I knowed your voice. You are alive, I've seen you, and now old Katy's

ready to die."

White as ashes grew the face of Uncle Joshua. The truth had flashed upon

him, and almost rendered him powerless. Pale and motionless he sat, until

William, freeing himself from Aunt Katy, came forward and said, "Joshua, I

am William, your brother; don't you know me?"

Then the floodgates of Uncle Joshua's heart seemed unlocked, and the long,

fervent embrace which followed between the rough old man and his

newly-found brother made more than one of the lookers on turn away his

face lest his companion should detect the moisture in his eyes, which

seriously threatened to assume the form of tears.

When the first joy and surprise of this unexpected meeting was over, Mr.

Joshua Middleton said, as if apologizing for his emotion, "I'm dumbly

afeard, Bill, that I acted mighty baby-like, but hang me if I could help

it. Such a day as this I never expected to see, and yet I have lain awake

o' nights thinkin' mebby you'd come back. But such ideas didn't last long,

and I'd soon give you up as a goner."

"That's jest what I never did," said Aunt Katy, who still stood near.

In the excitement of the moment she had forgotten that she had long

thought of "Marster William" as dead; she continued, "A heap of prars I

said for him, and it's chiefly owin' to them prars, I reckon, that he's

done fished up out of the sea."

"I've never been in the sea yet, Aunt Katy," said Mr. Middleton, desirous

of removing from her mind the fancy that any special miracle had been

wrought in his behalf.