"Why, this, and this, and this!" said Old Hurricane, producing a
burglar's pick, saw and chisel.
Cap took them and scrutinized them so attentively that Old Hurricane
burst out into a loud laugh, exclaiming:
"You'll dream of house-breakers to-night, Cap!" and taking the
tools, he put them all back in the little canvas bag, and put the
bag up on a high shelf of the parlor closet.
The next morning, while Cap was arranging flowers on the parlor
mantelpiece, Old Hurricane burst in upon her with his hands full of
letters and newspapers, and his heart full of exultation--throwing
up his hat and cutting an alarming caper for a man of his age, he
exclaimed:
"Hurrah, Cap! Hurrah! Peace is at last proclaimed and our victorious
troops are on their way home! It's all in the newspapers, and here
are letters from Herbert, dated from New Orleans! Here are letters
for you, and here are some for me! I have not opened them yet!
Hurrah, Cap! Hurrah!"
"Hurrah, Uncle! Hurrah!" cried Cap, tossing up her flowers and
rushing into his arms.
"Don't squeeze me into an apoplexy, you little bear," said Old
Hurricane, turning purple in the face, from the savage hug of Cap's
joyful arms. "Come along and sit down with me, at this table, and
let us see what the letters have brought us."
They took their seats opposite each other at a small table, and Old
Hurricane threw the whole mail between them, and began to pick out
the letters.
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