Happy Hours At Hazel Nook Or Cottage Stories

de him old; for he looked as if he might be the grandfather of the little ragged boys who played around his cottage door, and ran to meet him at the eventide. And in the square, on the wharves, and through the streets, they only knew him as " Old Casper " ?" Cotter Casper," who seemed never to have been young within the remembrance of any inhabitant. He walked with a trembling step, because his knees had so often tottered beneath the heavy loads he bore upon his back, his shoulders, or his head. His skin was withered and wrinkled by the winds and rain, in which he waited for odd jobs and burdens to carry. His garments were patched and threadbare, because he had not money enough to purchase new ones. And these old clothes gave him a very ancient look. The repeated patches on his knees gave them the appearance of two hard, gnarled knots on a forest stump; and the old brown suit looked, all together, with its shreds and mendings, like the scaly bark of an old tree. But Casper was faithful abroad, and kind at home. His neighbors, and his neighbors' dogs and hens, loved him and his children. The birds built their nests on the eaves and in the chimney of his hut, and the stray goats browsed to his very doorstep. If he ever had a spare crust, he knew where was a dog that would be glad to eat it; and, when he found a handful of hayseed in his pocket, he knew of the bird who would sing all the sweeter after he had put it on the window sill. One evening, as Old Casper re... --This text refers to an alternate Paperback edition.