Half-Hours with Mercury and Vulcan 



"Uncle Harl," and it would have been 

 wonderful to watch him bend and 

 fashion each particular piece as his 

 own fertile fancy might have dictated. 

 How I would love to hear that voice 

 again; it was so rich and deep, and 

 there was no note of anger in all its 

 register. I doubt if a kindlier bigger 

 heart ever beat in mortal breast. His 

 type has passed. Horseshoers we have 

 with us yet, but the all-around con- 

 structive, clever, clear-brained, keen- 

 eyed individual manipulators of hot 

 iron and steel at cross-roads country 

 towns are, I fancy, in these days rarely 

 to be met. 



And now the clock calls "Time!" 

 Bed-time! And it is right, as usual. 



