“It’s awful to be bossed around that way by a woman, Uncle Lys.” “Oh, you darnation fool!” snorted the old man, making a swipe at the lawyer with his cane. Squire Phin dodged in mock terror and went away laughing. Uncle Aquarius Wharff had come up and taken his favourite position on the platform to study the evening skies. “How is it looking to-night?” asked the lawyer, kindly humouring the old man’s vagary. “Clouds is master fine things with the sun-fire behind ’em, ain’t they, Squire?” returned Uncle Wharff. “Look at ’em, all splattered with colours that the cherubim has been busy all day a-mixin’ so’s to have ‘em ready for the sunset time. Blazin’ with glory, that’s what they be! Seems as if you could jump off’n Witch-Run Hill straight into the hereafter. Sometimes it has seemed to me that p’raps the angels do open the gates once in a while at sunset time jest to see if they are well ’iled ag’inst the Gre’t Day of the Hereafter. It’s a spankin’ fine prospect out there now, Squire. You take that mixtur’ of gold and roses and all them colours that make your heart feel swelly inside, and it means settled weather for a long time to come, Squire, for a long time to come!” The lawyer patted the shoulder of the old man’s sun-faded coat. “God bless you for a prophet, Uncle Aquarius,” he said gently. Then he stepped off the platform and started up the street, waving a greeting to the white figure at the gate. She came to meet him, with shining eyes, and they went in hand in hand. THE END End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Squire Phin, by Holman Day