Layton.
"God bless you, my boy! Don't forget us," said the doctor, his voice husky
with unshed tears as he wrung the strong young hand that had been so
helpful to him in the busy years flown by.
"Forget you, my more than father!" murmured the young man, not even trying
to keep the tears out of his eyes. "No matter how many years it may be
before I see you again, I shall always remember your unfailing kindness to
me. And can I ever forget how you saved me for a higher life than I could
possibly have lived if you had set me adrift in the world again for leaving
that barn door unfastened, and killing your cow? As long as I live, I shall
remember that great kindness, and shall try to deserve it by my life."
"Pshaw, Harry," said the doctor, "that was nothing but common humanity!"
"Uncommon humanity," corrected the youth. "Good-by, Mrs. Layton. I shall
always remember your kindness, too, and that you never gave me any less
butter or cream from poor Brindle's daughter for my grave offense. You have
been like an own mother to me."
"You have deserved it all, Harry," said the doctor's wife, and there was a
tear in her eye, too, which was an unusual sight, for she was not an
emotional woman.
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