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of me; don't be making it for the world you would be worse. And don't be writing seen with me this day of all to me or asking me to write; days. Ach, what a fool I sure, all's known at the post am to be crying. office, and it would put a talk and God go with you! No, out

And go now, 'deed, I won't forget you, Johnny dear, for I wouldn't Johnny.”

Go now,

on

me.

III.

a

That year, as it chanced, he came home for his noon-day came in fine, and Robert Cors- dinner; and he handed it to cadden got his harvest in with- Annie without a word. She out loss : a girl of fifteen, and also read it; her face was full a little boy of twelve, not much of doubt, touched with fear taller than the sheaves he lifted, restraining a desire. were the labourers who helped “Johnny will be mad for him. But however hard they going, Robert,” she said. laboured, there were still hay Robert, will you let him cocks standing out in the fields go ?There was

halfwhen the corn was ripe for checked eagerness in her tone. cutting. It vexed the soul of “Let him!” he repeated. Robert to see the work thus “How would I stop him ? and, through other, and not done God's truth, Annie, he would be in orderly sequence as he liked mad not to go.' to have it. But still the work Ah, but, Robert," she cried was done.

Money came, too, nervously, “sure you know the from the boy in Scotland, and sort of Johnny. If you were letters to his mother. Robert against it he might think bad did not complain, felt no right of staying, but not a one of to complain; but he brooded.

him would go.

An', Robert, So it went on for a year, and I never thought he would a second year. There was no come back

nor you neither, word of Johnny's returning. for all we never let on to one Robert's strength, spent daily another. Still an' all, I know in doing the work of two hired rightly labourers, failed noticeably; the Ah, whisht, woman,” said little boy, tasked beyond his Robert, almost roughly. “Do years, was stunted in growth. you think I would stand in my Then a letter came to Robert own son's road ?with a proposal.

“An' you'll write to him?" A son of the big house, near the woman cried. by Robert's farm, was going “ To be sure I will.” out to ranche in Texas.

He
“ An' what will

you

write?" wanted to take a trustworthy “I'll tell him if he's for hand with him. Would Robert going we'll scrape together all allow Johnny to go?

we can and fit him out the best Robert read the letter when way lies in us. It's little

A hymn came on a waft of evening wind
Along the valley from the village church
And thrilled her with a new significance
Unfelt before. It was the hymn they heard
On that sweet night among the rose-lit fern-
Sun of my soul; and, as she climbed the hill,
She wondered, for she saw no Kindly Light
Glimmering from the window; and she thought,
"Perhaps the madness leaves her.” There the hymn,
Like one great upward flight of angels, rose
All round her, mingling with the sea's own voice-

Come near and bless us when we wake,
Ere through the world our way we take,-
Till, in the ocean of Thy love,
We lose ourselves in heaven above."

And when she passed the pink thrift by the gate,
And the rough wallflowers by the whitewashed wall,
And entered, she beheld the widow kneeling,
In black, beside the unlit Kindly Light;
And near her dead cold hand upon the floor
A fallen taper, for with her last strength
She had striven to light it and, so failing, died.

ALFRED NOYES.

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a

ROBERT CORSCADDEN was from their mid-day meal of an Ulster farmer who owned tea and potatoes, and preparthe farm that he strove to live ing to go back to weeding in by. There were thirty acres of the drills. They were looking it, cold sour land, and a third at three men who tramped part of the whole barren moor. along the road from which a The

of trees which short cart - track led, through Robert had raised about the waste moor, to the house. Each row of buildings—double cot- man carried a bundle and was tage, byre, barn, and stable- dressed in dark clothes. grew starved and twisted, yet “ Yon will be some of the there was a shelter in the Glendoe fellows,” said Johnny, homestead for folk and beasts. who watched them with The beasts, for they were part curious eagerness. of the farm, were well fed “Ay,” his father answered, there, the folk were underfed. “they're early off. They're Yet the human beings, hardiest easy spared from the kind of of animals, lived, if they did farms they have in the low not thrive; the beasts died country.” sometimes. Then the pinch Johnny did not notice the would come.

farmer's contemptuous referA year before this Robert ence to the patches of ground lost two cows, and after that, on which migratory labourers worse than all, the stout mare make their dwelling. that had stood well to him “Work should be plenty in since he reared her. Another Scotland the year, when them horse had to be bought; the ones is going now," he said. instalments of purchase-money As he spoke, he pulled a due to Government must be pipe from his pocket and paid punctually in hard cash; began to fill it. and, as the least ruinous way His father spoke roughly. to raise it, young Johnny, a

" What matter about Scotland ? boy now man - big, who had That's a trick you got there, wrought beside his father for any way. Why must you be seven or eight years, was sent for ever with a pipe in your to the labour in Scotland. The mouth?money was earned, the boy "I can't be wanting it,” the came back, decent, quiet, in- boy answered sullenly. dustrious, but changed. That “ You can't be wanting it! was how trouble began. An' how do I do, then? I have

One cold sunless morning in no patience with you, wasting May, Robert and his son stood good money on the dirty stuff.” outside the door, coming out Johnny took the pipe out of

A hymn came on a waft of evening wind
Along the valley from the village church
And thrilled her with a new significance
Unfelt before. It was the hymn they heard
On that sweet night among the rose-lit fern-
Sun of my soul; and, as she climbed the hill,
She wondered, for she saw no Kindly Light
Glimmering from the window; and she thought,
"Perhaps the madness leaves her.” There the hymn,
Like one great upward flight of angels, rose
All round her, mingling with the sea's own voice-

Come near and bless us when we wake,
Ere through the world our way we take,-
Till, in the ocean of Thy love,
We lose ourselves in heaven above."

And when she passed the pink thrift by the gate,
And the rough wallflowers by the whitewashed wall,
And entered, she beheld the widow kneeling,
In black, beside the unlit Kindly Light;
And near her dead cold hand upon the floor
A fallen taper, for with her last strength
She had striven to light it and, so failing, died.

ALFRED NOYES. THE GRIP OF THE LAND.

L.

ROBERT CORSCADDEN was from their mid-day meal of an Ulster farmer who owned tea and potatoes, and preparthe farm that he strove to live ing to go back to weeding in by. There were thirty acres of the drills. They were looking it, cold sour land, and a third at three men who tramped part of the whole barren moor. along the road from which a The screen of trees which short cart - track led, through Robert had raised about the waste moor, to the house. Each row of buildings—double cot- man carried a bundle and was tage, byre, barn, and stable - dressed in dark clothes. grew starved and twisted, yet “Yon will be some of the there was a shelter in the Glendoe fellows,” said Johnny, homestead for folk and beasts. who watched them with a The beasts, for they were part curious eagerness. of the farm, were well fed “Ay," his father answered, there, the folk were underfed. “ they're early off. They're Yet the human beings, hardiest easy spared from the kind of of animals, lived, if they did farms they have in the low not thrive; the beasts died country.” sometimes. Then the pinch Johnny did not notice the would come.

farmer's contemptuous referA year before this Robert ence to the patches of ground lost two cows, and after that, on which migratory labourers worse than all, the stout mare make their dwelling. that had stood well to him “Work should be plenty in since he reared her. Another Scotland the year, when them horse had to be bought; the ones is going now," he said. instalments of purchase-money As he spoke, he pulled a due to Government must be pipe from his pocket and paid punctually in hard cash; began to fill it. and, as the least ruinous way His father spoke roughly. to raise it, young Johnny, a “What matter about Scotland ? boy now man - big, who had That's a trick you got there, wrought beside his father for any way. Why must you be seven or eight years, was sent for ever with a pipe in your to the labour in Scotland. The mouth?" money was earned, the boy “I can't be wanting it,” the came back, decent, quiet, in- boy answered sullenly. dustrious, but changed. That “You can't be wanting it! was how trouble began.

An' how do I do, then? I have One cold sunless morning in no patience with you, wasting May, Robert and his son stood good money on the dirty stuff. outside the door, coming out Johnny took the pipe out of

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