The old man wiped his eyes, and said, "Heavens and arth, don’t hurry a feller so; can’t you let him wait till the big bumps get out of his throat, or would you have me bellerin’ here like a calf?" "Take your time, Mr. Middleton," said Mr. Stafford, who was as much affected as his brother at the remembrance of that sad night, when he first felt what it was to be motherless. After an instant, Mr. Middleton continued, "Directly that sister got big enough, she was married and started to go to England, but the vessel went to smash and the crew went to the bottom. Poor gal, she always hated salt, but she’s used to it by this time, I reckon. Then there was pap died next, but he was old and gray-headed, and sick-hearted like, and he wanted to go, but it made it jest as bad for me. Then thar was Bill." Here Mr. Stafford moved his chair so as to hide his face from the speaker, who continued, "I did think I might have one left, but ’twasn’t to be. He went, too, and Josh was left alone." Mr. Middleton cleared his throat a little, refilled his cob pipe, and proceeded. "The Lord gin me two gals, and then he sent me as noble a boy as ever was, I don’t care where t’other comes from. He wasn’t mine, but I loved him all the same. You, Mr. Miller, knew him, but you don’t know—no, nor begin to know, how old Josh loved him, and what a tremendous wrench it gin my old heart when I come home and found he was dead. But, Lord, hain’t he got a fine gravestun, though! You go to the cimetery at Frankford, and you’ll see it right along side of Leftenant Carrington’s, whose widow’s a flirtin’ with everybody in creation anyway, and Frankford sartin." "I’ve now told you of all that’s dead," continued he, striking the ashes out of his pipe and wiping it on his bagging trousers, "but I hain’t told you yit what troubles me more than all. Thar’s something haunts old Josh, and makes his heart stand still with mortal fear. Thar’s Sunshine, dearer to her old pap than his own life. You’ve all seen her, and I reckon she’s made some of your hearts ache; but something’s come over her. She seems delicate like, and is fadin’ away." Here two big tears, that couldn’t be mistaken, rolled down Mr. Middleton’s cheeks, as he added emphatically, "and by Jehu, if Sunshine goes, old Josh’ll bust up and go, too!" The winding up of Uncle Joshua’s story was so odd and unexpected that all the gentlemen, Mr. Stafford included, laughed loudly. "’Tain’t no laughin’ matter, boys," said Mr. Middleton, "and so you’ll all think if you ever have a gal as sweet and lovin’ like as Sunshine." Here Mr. Stafford said, "Your sister’s name was Fanny, I believe." "Yes, ’twas; who told you?" asked Mr. Middleton. "No one. I knew it myself," answered Mr. Stafford, looking his brother earnestly in the face.