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The nearer I got to Bill’s, the worst I hated to go in. Standin’ on the stoop, I could hear the tall clock tickin’ solemnly inside–“tick-tock, tick-tock,” jest as plain as if I wuz settin’ aside uv it. The door wuz shet, yet I knew jest what Bill wuz doin’; he was settin’ in the old red easy-chair, lookin’ down at the floor–like this. Strange, ain’t it, how sometimes when you love folks you know jest what they ‘re doin’, without knowin’ anything about it!

There warn’t no use knockin’, but I knocked three times; so. Did n’t say a word; only jest knocked three times–that a-way. Did n’t hear no answer–nothin’ but the tickin’ uv the tall clock; an’ yet I knew that Bill heered me an’ that down in his heart he was sayin’ to me to come in. He never said a word, yet I knowed all the time Bill wuz sayin’ for me to come in.

I opened the door, keerful-like, an’ slipped in. Did n’t say nothin’; jest opened the door, softly-like, an’ slipped in. There set Bill jist as I knowed he was settin’, lonesome-like, sad-like; his head hangin’ down; he never looked up at me; never said a word–knowed I wuz there all the time, but never said a word an’ never made a sign.

How changed Bill wuz–oh, Bill, how changed ye wuz! There wuz furrers in yer face an’ yer hair wuz white–as white as–as white as mine! Looked small about the body, thin an’ hump-shouldered.

Jest two ol’ men, that’s what we wuz; an’ we had been boys together!

Well, I stood there a spell, kind uv hesitatin’ like, neither uv us sayin’ anything, until bimeby Bill he sort of made a sign for me to set down. Did n’t speak, did n’t lift his eyes from the floor; only made a sign, like this, in a weak, tremblin’ way–that wuz all. An’ I set down, and there we both set, neither uv us sayin’ a word, but both settin’ there, lovin’ each other an’ sympathize’ as hard as we could, for that is the way with men.

Bimeby, like we ‘d kind uv made it up aforehand, we hitched up closer, for when folks is in sorrer an’ trouble they like to be closte together. But not a word all the time, an’ hitchin’ closer an’ closer together, why, bimeby we set side by side. So we set a spell longer, lovin’ an’ sympathizin’, as men-folks do; thinkin’ uv the old times, uv our boyhood; thinkin’ uv the happiness uv the past an’ uv all the hopes them two children had brought us! The tall clock ticked, an’ that wuz all the sound there wuz, excep’ when Bill gin a sigh an’ I gin a sigh, too–to lighten the load, ye know.

Not a word come from either of us: ‘t wuz all we could do to set there, lovin’ each other an’ sympathizin’!

All at oncet–for we could n’t stand it no longer–all at oncet we turnt our faces t’ other way an’ reached out, so, an’ groped with our hands, this way, till we found an’ held each other fast in a clasp uv tender meanin’.

Then–God forgive me if I done a wrong–then I wisht I wuz a woman! For, bein’ a woman, I could have riz up, an’, standin’ so, I could have cried: “Come, Bill! come, let me hold you in these arms; come, let us weep together, an’ let this broken heart uv mine speak through these tremblin’ lips to that broken heart uv yourn, Bill, tellin’ ye how much I love ye an’ sympathize with ye!”

But–no! I wuz not a woman! I wuz a man! an’, bein’ a man, I must let my heart break; I must hold my peace, an’ I must make no sign.