She was rarely allowed to be alone with her uncle, a circumstance which
troubled her much less than it did him. He missed the evenings which he
had enjoyed so much, and the next consultation over the adventures
of Pearson's "Uncle Jim" and his "Mary" seemed flat and uninteresting
without criticism and advice.
The author himself noticed the difference.
"Rot!" he exclaimed, throwing the manuscript aside in disgust. "It's
rot, isn't it! If I can't turn out better stuff than that, I'd better
quit. And I thought it was pretty decent, too, until to-night."
Captain Elisha shook his head. "It don't seem quite so shipshape,
somehow," he admitted, "but I guess likely it's 'cause my head's full
of other things just now. I'm puzzled 'most to death to know what to get
for Caroline's birthday. I want to get her somethin' she'll like, and
she's got pretty nigh everything under the sun. Say, Jim, you've been
workin' too hard, yourself. Why don't you take to-morrow off and cruise
around the stores helpin' me pick out a present. Come ahead--do!"
They spent the next afternoon in that "cruise," visiting department
stores, jewelers, and art shops innumerable. Captain Elisha was hard to
please, and his comments characteristic.
"I guess you're right, Jim," he said, "there's no use lookin' at
pictures.
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