Suddenly a merry, roguish laugh is heard, and a little fellow with gold-brown hair and big blue eyes peers in through the slowly opening door. The old servant stops, and his withered face breaks into a smile. "Is dat you, honey?" he cries, with a laugh. "Come along, son. Yo' cha'r's all ready, Marse Richard." End of Project Gutenberg's The Fortunes of Oliver Horn, by F. Hopkinson Smith