"Yes, I did," interrupted Paul; "but he appears to have changed his mind. Now let's look and listen.'

As soon as the bags and bundles belonging to the Waver party had been landed on the platform, Mrs. Waver handed the baby, perhaps six months old, to Ossie, while she hustled the children and the baggage into the waiting-room, Ossie following along in her wake as fast as his load permitted. The Grangers could now see Mrs. Waver clearly. She was at least three inches taller than Ossie, twenty or thirty pounds heavier, and apparently several years older. If not ugly, she was not comely, nor was she made more attractive by the general look of frowsiness and want of tidiness about her. But her face was full of determination and force, and her manner expressive of vigorous energy.

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"Have we long to wait, Mawia? " inquired the Strong Arm. "Dear me!" exclaimed Maria, consulting her watch and speaking as if to herself rather than in answer to the question; only five minutes till our train is due. Now, Wave, you hold the baby and look after the children-and don't let the twins run away. Only five minutes, and I've got to get the tickets, check the trunks, telegraph mother to meet us with a carriage, and get some milk for the baby and some lunch for the rest of us. It's very provoking that we missed that train-and all your fault."

"Yas, vewy pwovoking, my deah," echoed the Strong Arm meekly. "But couldn't we wait and get a cahwiage without telegwaphing?"

"No, I ain't going to do nothing of the kind.”

"Well, I think I could attend to it vewy nicely. "Now you stay right here," broke in Maria, "and don't try to get on the cars till I come back."

Away she bustled. baby was a large one, squirmed and fretted in powers not a little.

Ossie found his hands full. The and hungry, and it wriggled and a way that taxed Ossie's physical

"Shall we not go and speak to him, Paul?" asked Thalia, her sympathy roused by the action of the infant.

"No, dear," replied Paul; “I am not so hard-hearted as that. I don't believe in treading on a man when he's down, even if he doesn't know it.”

Just then Maria rushed back with the milk and lunch. Here, Wave, this way," she cried as Ossie started for the wrong door.

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"Can't you wait till I get some cigawettes?" said Ossie,. half-pleadingly. "I haven't smoked but once to-day."

"We hain't got no time," answered Maria decisively. "And I ain't going to spare you long enough to smoke one anyhow. You've got to help me take care of the children till we get home. Then you can smoke yourself into fits if you want to."

"There," said Paul with a sigh of relief, as Maria bundled Ossie and the babies and the baggage on board the car, "I'm rejoiced to know that Ossie made such a prudent matrimonial choice; and as for Maria, she seems to be entirely safe under the shadow of Ossie's 'pwotecting ahm.'" "How is it?" said Thalia, glancing up at Paul and smiling a little demurely

"When the man wants weight, the woman takes it up,
And topples down the scales.'"

"Exactly," he replied. "You see, Ossie was one of these chaps that go around whistling to keep their courage uptrying to cloak their own masculine weakness, physical or mental, under a pretended admiration for weakness in woman. And pretty soon along comes Maria, flatters and wheedles the weakling and tickles his vanity, and presently takes him by the ear and leads him off to her nest; where, most likely, he straightway learns to adore in her the 'stwength' that is lacking in himself.”

When the Grangers reached The Forks they found Steve Willett waiting for them with horses and wagon, Paul having telegraphed Steve two hours before of the intended invasion. Steve was now not only a thriving merchant, but something of a politician as well; he having joined the Republican ranks, while the vote of his brother Hez went to swell the Democratic column. The sun was still gilding the hilltops and bringing out the gorgeous autumnal tints as the party drove up to Deacon Willett's and alighted. Steve at once started back to The Forks, Saturday night being the busy time of the week at the store. Harlow and Guy rushed away in pursuit of the big dog Buff, while Paul and Thalia, no one having noticed their arrival, walked along past the house toward the back entrance.

"What can the woman be doing?" said Thalia, as they came in sight of Aunt Sue, in a picturesque but by no

means elegant costume. She wore an old faded calico dress, the skirt tucked up beneath the strings of a huge "bedtickin'" apron. An old black soft hat, once the property of the Deacon, covered her head. In her hand she held a big wooden ladle, with which she was stirring and poking about in a huge iron kettle that hung over a fire built upon the ground. Busy with her work, she did not see the visitors, who approached till they got a whiff from the steaming kettle that was not calculated to entice them

nearer.

Paul was about to speak, when Aunt Sue straightened up, stepped back, and, with arms extended downwards and outwards, surveyed the bubbling, seething liquid with a look of unalloyed satisfaction.

"There," she said aloud, as if addressing a second person, "there's a job nobody need be 'shamed on, I tell ye." "If that's your honest opinion, I'll guarantee it's a good kettle of soap," said Paul quietly, as though she had spoken to him.

Aunt Sue started as if struck, turned, threw up both hands, and looked in blank amazement.

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Wal, fer the land sakes alive!" she cried. "Ye've ketched me this time, sure 'nough. Seemed 's ef this kittle o' soap never would come jest right. I didn't want to leave it over Sunday-an' I wa'n't 'xpectin' company-so I jes' says to myself, says I, 'I'll keep a-b'ilin' of it'; an' I've fin'lly got it jes' 's I want it."

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You don't seem to have lost your temper over it," remarked Paul, smiling.

"Lost my temper b'ilin' soap!" exclaimed Aunt Sue; "not by a jugful. I wouldn't like nothin' better'n to keep right on a-b'ilin' an' a-stirrin' of this 'ere kittle till midnight, ef I hed the grease an' lye Ef there's one thing I do take comfort in more'n anything about housework, it's b'ilin' soap."

Paul and Thalia and the boys spent the night at Joshua's, and heard him preach at the schoolhouse the next morning -the same old schoolhouse and the same sort of preaching. Was it strange that Paul heard little of the sermon, with his mind so full of memories of his childhood and youth?

After "meetin "" the Grangers, including Joshua and his wife, went to the Deacon's to dinner.. They found Dr. Gardner there, he having driven up, as he was expected to

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do, to take Paul and his household back to the city that night, there being no Sunday train from The Forks.

And was it not better that this the last time that Paul and Thalia were to look upon the autumn leaves there together, was marred by no foreboding of the dark days ahead?

"Papa, where's God?" exclaimed Harlow the next morning, looking up from his laborious struggle to button a new pair of shoes.

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What do you mean?" inquired the father.

Why, don't you know, grandpa, said in his serming yesterday that God gives us everything we have to eat, and we ought to ask him for it and thank him when we get it. I want to ask him for my breakfast.'

"Have you ever asked him for your breakfast before?" "No."

"Haven't you always had your breakfast?"

"Yes."

"Well, now, Harlow," continued Paul, quietly and seriously, "you ask God for your breakfast, if you can find him, and Guy and I will ask mamma for ours, and we'll see who gets its first."

CHAPTER 43

THE PARTING OE THE POLITICAL WAYS

For a year and a half after the death of Mr. Gray, Paul Granger continued at the helm of the Journal. Then came another change-not merely a change but a crisis. A general election was at hand. Differences of opinion within the political party which the Journal represented had ripened and burst. The wing with which Granger sympathized had been defeated. The policy of the party, and of the Journal as a party organ, was to be such as he had theretofore steadily opposed. He must henceforth work for the success of a policy that he knew to be wrong, or-what?

It was no ordinary state of things. It was the leading issue dividing the parties, and a matter of vital principle

with him. Mr. Gray was no longer there to bear the responsibility and do that which Granger could not conscientiously do.

For a week he brooded over it. He talked with Thalia, with Dr. Gardner, with others in whose judgment and good will he had confidence. On the one hand, there was his professional career, everything as good as assured, promising him steady advancement and a wide and increasing field of usefulness. All his political friendships, all the ties of the past, all the hopes of the future, it seemed, were centered there. Nor was that all. There was his income, his only present means of providing for wife and children— two children now and loving anticipations of a third. On the other hand, there was the overwhelming sense of duty, of personal responsibility for the use of whatever talents and influence he possessed. To yield meant to stultify himself, to belie himself; to falsely support what he had theretofore honestly opposed; to invite condemnation and contempt from those who justly scorn the time-server and political trimmer. It meant to prostitute his mental powers to base uses. It meant turning back instead of going ahead-leading men downward instead of upward.

Stubbornly he fought it out, a fierce moral conflict. At last it was over, and he rose calm and firm.

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Thalia," he said, as those eyes full of love and sympathy met his, "I can not, must not, will not do this thing.'

She understood. Tenderly she drew his head to her bosom. "I knew you must reach this decision, Paul," she said. "It is right, come what will."

He wrote a note to his employers, stating that under the circumstances he could no longer maintain his connection with the paper, and asking to be relieved from his duties as soon as possible. But that was not to be the end of it. Men who were his friends, who had stood by him in the past, whom he knew to be actuated by warm, unselfish interest in him and his future, argued with him, even pleaded with him, to retain his position. In vain: his way was clear; he would follow it. A week later another man took Paul's place on the Journal, and he walked away, sad even to tears. A few days he spent at home with wife and children. He had need of Thalia's soothing influence.

We will just shut ourselves up in our own small world for a little time," she said, "before you turn to other things."