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devoted to perfecting himself in the manual exercise of jumping on and off moving trains of cars; but the Providence, or the luck, or the law of chance, or the instinct and power of self-preservation, or whatever it is that safely conducts unreasoning humanity through the labyrinth of childhood perils, kept Paul unharmed.

Joshua worked steadily, and his yearly earnings were nearly double those of any previous year since he and Mary were married. The family had more and better food and more cheerful surroundings in all respects. But Joshua's opportunities for religious work were limited. He took an active part in the meetings of the church which the Grangers joined, but merely as a member. He was no longer a leader, as he had been on Sugar Hill. Rarely he went to some outlying district schoolhouse and preached on Sunday, just to keep his hand in, as he told Mary. The result of all this upon Joshua's feelings was that, although the family had. gained much in material and intellectual things by its migration from the country to the city, he was not satisfied.

Seems to me 's ef I'm wastin' the best years o' my life," he said to Mary one day, with a half-sigh and a half-groan. ""Taint like doin' the Lord's work, savin' souls. Sometimes when I git to thinkin' 'bout it I'm weighted down by sich a sense o' duty 't seems to me I can't stan' it no longer. An' sometimes when the Lord 'pears to 've forsook me, I wonder 'f I grieved the Holy Spirit by runnin' away from Sugar Hill. An' it seems to me sometimes 's though I mus' git back there at any cost 's quick 's I kin."

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We're doin' a good deal better here 'n we ever done on Sugar Hill," mildly expostulated Mary; "an' more'n all that, Paul's gittin' an' awful good chance fer schoolin.' You know you always said you wantid 'im to have a better education 'n you had."

"Yes, but thet ain't doin' my duty," replied Joshua with a show of petulance. "Paul's gittin' an edication ain't agoin' to save these souls thet's perishin' now, an' 'tain't goin' to take the responsibility off'n me 'f the souls goes to everlastin' perdition. When Paul gits big enough he kin go 'way f'm home an' git his edication wherever he wants to.'

Joshua snatched up a copy of the Methodist Discipline from the table, and turned the leaves quickly and nervously.

"Jes' listen to this," he said; "here's the teachin' I'm

boun' to follow: 'Gainin' knowledge is a good thing, but savin' souls is a better'; an' 'we ough' to throw by all the libraries in the world, ruther than be guilty o' the loss o' one soul.' There's where I stan'."

Joshua's eyes gleamed with triumph as he brought the Discipline down upon the Bible with an emphatic bang. Poor Mary! What could she say?

One day in June, 1865, there was uncommon commotion in the city of L—— Festoons and streamers of bunting bedecked public and private buildings, flags of all dimensions waived gaily, and strains of martial music filled the air. From the surrounding country farm vehicles poured into the city. Toward noon the populace began to stream along from all quarters toward a common center, the railroad station. With eager expectation they watched and waited. At last a dim wreath of smoke curled up in the distance. As it drew nearer the watching throng set up a prolonged shout, while whistles shrieked, bells clanged, and brass bands played their liveliest airs of welcome. It was just twelve o'clock when the locomotive drew up with its trainload of blue-coated veteran volunteers, home from the war. Ah, what a meeting! Tears of joy at the return of the brave, loyal men who had come back, sobs of sorrow for the immortal heroes who would come back no more for

ever.

At last Paul Granger, tired and hungry, began threading his way out of the crowd, when a stalwart, sun-browned, bearded but still youthful-looking man laid his hand on the boy's head and exclaimed:

"Hello! Paul Granger or his big shadow!"

Paul turned quickly, stepped back, and looked up into the good-humored face above him.

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So you don't know me," laughed the man. "Let's see that scar on your hand where the Sugar Hill schoolhouse stovepipe fell on it."

"It's Ned Gardner!" cried Paul, springing forward and grasping Ned's hand in both his own, as had been his wont years before. "I never should ha' knowed you, never,

never. I wonder how-"

Paul stopped, shrank back a little and dropped his eyes, while his face flushed and the look of childish gladness gave place to an expression of shame and confusion. Ned in

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stantly divined the cause of the change in the boy's manner, and at a glance read the whole story of his continued mental suffering.

"You couldn't be expected to recognize such a roughbearded fellow as I have come to be," responded Ned quickly and with no apparent notice of Paul's distress. "But how goes the school, and city life generally?"

Paul related to Ned how he had already passed up one grade since he had been in the city school, and hoped to take another jump of the same sort the next year, if his father did not move back to Sugar Hill, as he sometimes talked of doing.

"I hope he will not," said Ned; "this is just the place for you now, and a better place for your father and mother too, I guess, than Sugar Hill."

66 Be you goin' back to The Forks to live?" asked Paul. "No," replied Ned, "not to live. I am going back there to spend a month or two with my father and then I am going West to attend medical college. It may be two or three years before I come back, but I shall not forget you, and when I do come back I shall be sure to see you if you are anywhere around here."

Paul insisted on Ned's going home to dinner with him; and Ned easily yielded, one of his objects being to influence Joshua, as far as an expression of opinion would do it, to remain in the city on Paul's account. Paul saw Ned once more before he left for the West; and how those little talks with Ned encouraged and stimulated the boy. Nor was that the only result of Ned's visit; for from the time of that meeting at the depot Ned Gardner was determined that if he could bring it he would remove at least one of the burdens that weighed upon the boy most heavilythe crookedness of those eyes.

But the fears of Paul and Mary were early realized. In the fall following the events last related Mr. Handy went out of business, and Joshua lost his job. The reputation which he had made as a steady, reliable man would easily have procured him another place of work in the city. But despite the entreaties of Mary and Paul, Joshua's eyes turned back longingly toward his old field of Christian labor. After a few days of idleness, during which he made no effort to get work, he went up to Sugar Hill to look

around. He found a chance for a winter's job at cutting wood by the cord, and at once decided to move back. To Mary the trip back to Sugar Hill seemed like attending her own funeral. Paul was almost frantic with anger and dis appointment. The recollection of his life on Sugar Hill had always been bitter and depressing to him.

For Mary, however, there was one ray of comfort. During the absence of the Grangers Deacon Willett had built a small tenant house near his own dwelling. When Aunt Sue learned that Joshua was bent on moving back to Sugar Hill whether or no, she and the Deacon talked it over and agreed to rent him their tenant house, which happened to be vacant; Aunt Sue being influenced thereto chiefly by sympathy for Mary, and the Deacon by the fact that Joshua was a good farm hand. So Aunt Sue and Mary became even nearer neighbors than before.

CHAPTER 17

A GENUINE CONVERSION AT LAST

'JOSHUA ain't to work to-day?" remarked Aunt Sue on the occasion of one of her early morning calls upon Mary, observing Joshua's axe sticking out from the woodbox.

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"No," replied Mary; "he wa'n't feelin' very well this morning, an' so he didn't go to work. He's gone over to have a talk with Brother Dope. Joshua never's b'en clear whether justification precedes sanctification, er sanctification precedes justification, an' he thinks Brother Dope 's got more light on the subjec' 'n any other minister he ever see." Humph!" ejaculated Aunt Sue. "I can't stand Simon Dope er his preachin' nohow. His eyes is too near together, an' his idees too fur 'part. He's one o' them sof'-soapin', palaverin' fellers. He ain't Mr. Shore, I tell ye, an' we hain't hed no sich minister here sence he left. It was a shame how little he got to live on whilst he was here, an' more'n fifty dollars of his salary wa'n't never paid 'im 't all. But ther' ain't no danger o' Simon Dope goin' hungry 's long 's ther's anybody roun' thet's got so'thin' to eat an' 'll give it up fer the axin'. When he wants flour er meat er taters er anything else, he jes' goes to somebody 't he knows hez

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III

got 'em an' tells 'em what he wants in thet wheedlin' way his'n; an' ther's few men an' fewer women 't kin say no to a preacher when he comes at 'em in thet way. But Simon Dope knows better 'n to try it with me 'n' Hez.

"An' then the way he dooz beg fer money fer so'thin' ev'ry time he preaches here! Las' Sunday night when he was talkin' in thet put-on half-sniv'lin' way o' his'n 'bout the poor heathen women in Chiny I knowed what was comin' an' I watched Hez. Some way Hez never kin learn to say no to a minister 'thout I'm 'long to back 'im up a leetle. He'd put a shinplaster into the hat ev'ry time it comes roun', 'f I wa'n't there to watch 'im. But I.allus manage to ketch his eye afore the hat reaches 'im, an' them missionary causes don't git more'n a cent apiece f'm Hez Willett, I tell ye. Lan' sakes alive! I guess 'f them heathen women over in Chiny c'd see Miss Dope, poor, sickly, broken-down critter 't she is, with six little childern an' another comin'an' she kin thank her stars ef 't ain't twins agʼin-'f them Chiny women c'd see thet, I guess they'd think somebody 'd better do a leetle missionary work 'mongst the ministers in Ameriky, an' thet worshipin' wooden idils wa'n't the wust state o' things a woman c'd git into, by a long shot."

Paul attended the district school on Sugar Hill that winter. But after his city experience the country school, as far as its educational facilities were concerned, had no charm for him, and he was too disappointed at having had to leave his school work in the city to avail himself of what little benefit he might still have found in the district school.

No one had been found to fill Joshua's place in his absence from Sugar Hill, so he stepped back into his old tracks as though he had never been away. Two months after his return he started another revival at the schoolhouse, and carried it on for six weeks, with but moderate success; but he said to himself that it was not to be expected that he could undo in a few weeks all that the Devil had been able to do in his three years' absence.

About the time Joshua's revival closed, Simon Dope undertook a revival at The Forks, aided by a stirring revivalist whose ponderous blows were calculated to strike fire from the flintiest unregenerate heart. The reports of the first few meetings brought large delegations on each succeeding night from all the surrounding country, including