"Father!" he cried, "Natty Bell! Oh, it's good to be home again!"
"Man Jack, it's all right!" said Natty Bell, nodding to John, but
shaking away at the hand Barnabas had reached down to him, "_our_
lad's come back to us, yes, Barnabas has come home, John, and--it
_is_ our Barnabas--London and Fashion aren't spiled him, John,
thank God!"
"No," answered John ponderously, "no, Natty Bell, London aren't
spiled him, and--why, Barnabas, I'm glad to see ye, lad--yes,
I'm--glad, and--and--why, there y'are, Barnabas."
"Looks a bit palish, though, John!" said Natty Bell, shaking his head,
"but that's only nat'ral, arter all, yes--a bit palish, p'r'aps, but,
man Jack--what o' that?"
"And a bit thinnish, Natty Bell," replied John, "but Lord! a few
days and we'll have him as right as--as ever, yes, quite right, and
there y' are, Natty Bell!"
"P'r'aps you might be wishful to tell him, John, as you've had the
old 'Hound' brightened up a bit?"
"Why, yes, Barnabas," nodded John, "in honor o' this occasion--though,
to be sure, the sign would look better for a touch o' paint here and
there--the poor old Hound's only got three legs and a tail left,
d' ye see--and the hare, Barnabas, the hare--ain't!"
"P'r'aps we'd better take and let him see for hisself, John?"
"Right, Natty Bell, so he shall.
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