She held her hands out to us both, and we mingled our tears of gratitude with those that filled her eyes.

“Thank you,” I said.

“God bless your true heart,” said Louis, “and may your last days be your happiest.”

“Amen,” said Jane, and she passed into the next room, Matthias putting the present in a corner where it would take less space.  Mr. Davis followed her, and beside him stood a clock which father had helped him to bring in.

“This clock, my young friends, is the one which has stood in the corner of my study for years.  I have taken an especial pride in its unvarying correctness, and the man in the moon is unfailing in his calculation, showing his face at the appropriate season.  The clock’s tick is strong and well becomes the old veteran, and the coat of mahogany he wears is one that can never need a stitch.  To you, above all others, I would yield this treasure; it is worth far more to me than any gift I might purchase, and I know that you,” turning to Louis, “rejoice in keeping bright the old-time landmarks linking forever the past and the present.”

This brought Louis to his feet, and Clara and myself rose too, for his arms encircled us.

“Mr. Davis,” he said, grasping his outstretched hand, “you have done me great honor; may I have the pleasure to retain through endless ages the confidence you place in me and my blessed wife, my Emily.”

“The years will brighten the lustre of your true heart,” said Mr. Davis; and here his wife handed me a patchwork quilt, while her husband said: 

“May your lives and loves be welded by a double chain as long as my wife’s handiwork shall last.”

It seemed to me I could not bear all this, and when father came forward at this moment and handed me a deed of some of his best land, I should, I believe, have screamed had not Louis’ hand held me tightly.  Gifts multiplied like flakes of falling snow, until we were surrounded by them.  I can only mention a few more, and before me rise plainly now the faces of Aunt Peg and Matthias, as bowing low before me they laid at our feet their offerings.

“Only jest a little intment; that’s all they is when we looks at the rest; but we wanted to bring you sunthin’,” said Aunt Peg.

A beautiful mat bordered with her own choice of bright colors, a clothes-basket made by Matthias, and in the latter three pairs of beautifully-knitted wool stockings for Louis.

“Peg spun dis wool,” said Matthias, “an’ de stockins is good:  dis baskit,” he added despairingly, “I tried my bes’ to put some sky color on, but I reckin ef de bluin’ bottle had jes’ spill over it ’twould do more colorin’ and better too.  May de Lord help ye to live an’ war it out, and then I’ll make another.”

“That was a good speech,” said Louis, and we shook hands with these two white-hearted friends, and they also passed on out of sight, leaving me still at the mercy of the coming.