约翰逊博士和他的父亲（3）

    “samuel!” again the old man calls.

    but samuel makes no re-ply. he is so deeply interested in his book that he does not hear. the old man rests himself a little longer and then finishes tying his packages. he lifts the heavy basket and sets it on the table. the exertion brings on another fit of coughing; and . one of us must go doe this morning and get everything in readiness. but i hardly feel able for the journey. my cough troubles me quite a little, and you see that it is raining very hard.”

    “yes, father; i am sorry,” ansain bent over the book.

    “i thought perhaps you o doht stay here at the shop,” says his father. but samuel does not hear. he is deep in the study of some latin classic.

    the old man goes to the door and looks out. the rain is still falling. he shivers, and buttons his coat.

    it is a te o do on his great coat. he is reaching for his hat. the basket is on his arm.

    he casts a beseeching glance at his son, hoping that he hing.

    , and he makes no sign nor motion.

    the stage comes rattling dogers out of the door. the stage halts for a moment s his .

    Ⅱ

    just fifty years have passed, and again it is market day at uttoxeter.

    the rain is falling in the streets. the people hts. one uess him to be seventy years of age. he is large and not e grimaces as he clambers out of the chaise. he h afflicted .

    he looks at the little stalls ranged along the arket place. some have roofs over them and are the centers of noisy trade. others have fallen into disuse and are empty.</p>

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