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WE PASS A DELIGHTFUL EVENING, AND I HAVE A MORNING VISION.
In a long saloon ornamented with stags' horns and instruments of the chase, tusks of boars, spear-staves, boarknives, and silver horns, my father, I, and Temple sat down to a memorable breakfast, my father in his true form, dressed in black silken jacket and knee-breeches, purple-stockings and pumps; without a wig, I thanked heaven to see.
How blithely he flung out his limbs and heaved his chest released from confinement! His face was stained brownish, but we drank old Rhine wine, and had no eye for appearances.
'So you could bear it no longer, Richie ?' My father interrupted the narrative I doled out, anxious for his, and he began, and I interrupted him.
'You did think of me often, papa, didn't you ?' His eyes brimmed with tenderness.
'Think of you!' he sighed.
I gave him the account of my latest adventures in a few panting breaths, suppressing the Bench.

He set my face to front him.
'We are two fools, Mr.Temple,' he said.
'No, sir,' said Temple.
'Now you speak, papa,' said I.
He smiled warmly.
'Richie begins to remember me.' I gazed at him to show it was true.
'I do, papa--I'm not beginning to.' At his request, I finished the tale of my life at school.

'Ah, well! that was bad fortune; this is good!' he exclaimed.

'Tis your father, my son: 'tis day-light, though you look at it through a bed-curtain, and think you are half-dreaming.