That boy certainly had the Winslow blood in him; why, he greatly resembled the Joel of more than fifty years back, as shown in that old-time daguerreotype.
Then Deacon Winslow once more rose to his feet.

His face was fairly radiant, as was that of his wife.
"I believe I can understand how this comes about," he was saying, just as if he might have had a revelation as he prayed there.

"It is no accident, but the hand of a special Providence.

Our petitions have been heard, and this is the answer; so the last few years of our lives may be made happy by the sight of our own flesh and blood.

My poor service has come up as a memorial before Heaven.