Even the great Budd Doble, whom he personally knew, had said more than once, and in the presence of unimpeachable witnesses, that in some ways he, Budd Doble, knew less about a horse than Cousin Bill J.did.
The little boy was wrought to enthusiasm by this tribute, resolving always to remember to say "hoss" for horse; and, though he had not heard of Budd Doble before, the name was magnetic for him.

After you said it over several times he thought it made you feel as if you had a cold in your head.
Still further, Cousin Bill J.could throw his thumbs out of joint, sing tenor in the choir, charm away warts, recite "Roger and I" and "The Death of Little Nell," and he knew all the things that would make boys grow fast, like bringing in wood, splitting kindling, putting down hay for the cow, and other out-of-door exercises that had made him the demon of strength he once was.

The little boy was not only glad to perform these acts for his own sake, but for the sake of lightening the labours of his hero, who wrenched his back anew nearly every time he tried to do anything, and was always having to take a medicine for it which he called "peach-and-honey." The little boy thought the name attractive, though his heart bled for the sufferer each time he was obliged to take it; for after every swallow of the stuff he made a face that told eloquently how nauseous it must be.
As for the satire and wit of Cousin Bill J., they were of the dry sort.

He would say to one he met on the street when the mud was deep, "Fine weather overhead"-- then adding dryly, after a significant pause--"_but few going that way!"_ Or he would exclaim with feigned admiration, when the little boy shot at a bird with his bow and arrow, "My! you made the feathers fly _that_ time!"-- then, after his terrible pause--_"only, the bird flew with them_." Also he could call it "Fourth of Ju-New-Years" without ever cracking a smile, though it cramped the little boy in helpless laughter.
Altogether, Cousin Bill J.was a winning and lovely character of merits both spiritual and spectacular, and he brought to the big house an exotic atmosphere that was spicy with delights.

The little boy prayed that this hero might be made again the man he once was; not because of any flaw that he could see in him--but only because the sufferer appeared somewhat less than perfect to himself.