"
"What makes you say he was a nice gentleman?"
"He had such beautiful boots!" answered Dora, at which there was a great
laugh about the table.
"O! we must run and tell Connie that," said Harry. "It will make her
laugh."
"What will you tell Connie, then, Harry?"
"O! what was it, Charlie? I've forgotten."
Another laugh followed at Harry's expense now, and we were all very merry,
when Dora, who sat opposite to the window, called out, clapping her hands--
"There's Niceboots again! There's Niceboots again!"
The same moment the head of a young man appeared over the wall that
separated the garden from the little beach that lay by the entrance of the
canal. I saw at once that he must be more than ordinarily tall to show his
face, for he was not close to the wall. It was a dark countenance, with
a long beard, which few at that time wore, though now it is getting not
uncommon, even in my own profession--a noble, handsome face, a little sad,
with downbent eyes, which, released from their more immediate duty towards
nature, had now bent themselves upon the earth.
"Counting the dewy pebbles, fixed in thought."
"I suppose he's contemplating his boots," said Wynnie, with apparent
maliciousness.
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