Aunt Jane's Nieces
He came in awkward and trembling, glancing fearfully at the bandaged
forehead and the still white face. But Patricia managed to smile
reassuringly, and held out a little hand for him to take. The boy
grasped it in both his own, and held it for several minutes while he
stood motionless beside her, his wide eyes fixed intently upon her
own.
Then Louise sent him away, and he went to his room and wept profusely,
and then quieted down into a sort of dull stupor.
The next morning Uncle John dragged him away from Patricia's door and
forced him to play chess. The boy lost every game, being inattentive
and absorbed in thought, until finally Uncle John gave up the attempt
to amuse him and settled himself on the top stair for a quiet smoke.
The boy turned to the table, and took a sheet of paper from the
drawer. For an hour, perhaps, neither of these curious friends spoke
a word, but at the end of that time Uncle John arose and knocked the
ashes from his pipe. Kenneth did not notice him. The man approached
the table and looked over the boy's shoulder, uttering an exclamation
of surprise. Upon the paper appeared a cleverly drawn pencil sketch
of Patricia lying in her bed, a faint smile upon her face and her big
blue eyes turned pleasantly upon a shadowy form that stood beside her
holding her hand. The likeness was admirable, and if there were faults
in the perspective and composition Uncle John did not recognize them.
He gave a low whistle and turned thoughtfully away, and the young
artist was so absorbed that he did not even look up.
Strolling away to the stables, Uncle John met old Donald, who
enquired:
"How is Miss Patsy this morning, sir?" It was the name she had given,
and preferred to be called by.
"She's doing finely," said Uncle John.
"A brave girl, sir!"
"Yes, Donald."
"And the boy?"
"Why, he seems changed, in some way, Donald. Not so nervous and wild
as usual, you know. I've just left him drawing a picture. Curious. A
good picture, too."
"Ah, he can do that, sir, as well as a real artist.
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In a village there lived two men who had the self-same name. Both were named Claus. But one of them owned four horses, and the other owned only one horse; so to distinguish between them people called the man who had four horses Big Claus, and the man who had only one horse Little Claus. Now I'll tell you what happened to these two, for this is a true story.
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