"For you see, Major," Arthur Thorndyke had explained to the boy, when he
had come tap-tapping on his crutches into his uncle's study that
morning, "this is such very new business to me. I'm having a pretty
hard time trying to think of anything good and fine enough to say to
the men in blue--and gray--and brown, for we have all sorts here, you
know."
It was true that Uncle Arthur was a very boyish-looking uncle; but he
was tall and big, and he had been preaching for a year now, and David
thought that he preached very good sermons indeed. Besides, he had been
in the Spanish War, one of the youngest privates in Uncle Stephen's
company, and he ought to know all about it, even though he had really
been in very few engagements.
"I guess you can do it, Uncle Arthur," said David comfortingly. "And
I'll keep very still in the alcove. I would play somewhere else, only,
you see, it's the only window that looks out over the square, and my
playing is out there."
Uncle Arthur had not taken time to ask him what he meant, but afterward,
when the little droning sound had begun to annoy him, he found out.
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