But then he asked himself,
would his mother approve of this? He decided that she would not, and,
said he: "'Twould be huntin' just as much as t' go shootin' and th'
Lard would be gettin' angry wi' me too."
That kept him from going, and he spent the day in the tent drawing
mind pictures of the little cabin home that he longed so much to see
and the loved ones that were there. The thought of little Emily, lying
helpless but still so patient, brought tears to his eyes. But all
would be well in the end, he told himself, for God was good and had
given him the silver fox he had prayed for that Emily might go and be
cured.
What a proud and happy day it would be for him when with his greatest
hopes fulfilled, the boat ground her nose again upon the beach below
the cabin from which he had started so full of ambition that long ago
morning in September. How his father would come down to shake his hand
and say: "My stalwart lad has done bravely, an' I'm proud o' un." His
mother, all smiles, would run out to meet him and take him in her arms
and praise and pet him, and then he would hurry in to see dear,
patient little Emily on her couch, and her face would light up at
sight of him and she would hold out her hands to him in an ecstasy of
delight and call: "Oh, Bob! Bob! my fine big brother has come back to
me at last!" Then he would bring in his furs and proudly exhibit the
silver fox and hear their praises, and perhaps he would have another
silver fox by that time.
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