as, if I did have a hand in bringing you up. Yes--go."

"Your heart is right now," said Gretchen; "and I want to speak to you
about Benjamin. He told me a few days ago that he hated you, but that no
one should ever harm you, because he loved the Master."

"He did, did he?" said Mrs. Woods, starting up. "Well, I hate him, and
I'll never forgive him for tellin' you such a thing as that."

"But, mother, don't you love _the_ Master, and won't you be friendly and
forgiving to Benjamin, for _his_ sake? I wish you would. It would give you
power; I want you to do so."

"I'll think about it, Gretchen. I don't feel quite right about these
things, and I'm goin' to have a good talk with Father Lee. The boy has
some good in him."

"I wish you would tell him that."

"Why?"

"Sympathy makes one grow so."

"That's so, Gretchen. Only praise a dog for his one good quality, and it
will make a good dog of him. I 'spect 'tis the same with folks. But my
nature don't break up easy. I shall come out right some time. I tell you
I'm goin' to have a talk with Father Lee. It is his preachin' that has
made me what I am, and may be I'll be better by and by."

Mrs. Woods, with all her affected courage, had good reason to fear an
Indian outbreak, and to use every influence to prevent it. The very
mention of the Potlatch filled her with recent terror. She well knew the
story of the destruction of Whitman and a part of his missionary colony.

_That_ was a terrible event, and it was a scene like that that the new
settlers feared, at the approaching Potlatch; and the thought of that
dreadful day almost weakened the faith of Mr. Mann in the Indians.

We must tell you the old-time history of the tragedy which was now revived
in the new settlement.

_THE CONJURED MELONS._

Most people who like history are familiar with the national story of
Marcus Whitman's "Ride for Oregon"[A]--that daring horseback trip across
the continent, from the Columbia to the Missouri, which enabled him to
convince the United States Government not only that Oregon could be
reached, but that it was worth possessing. Exact history has robbed this
story of some of its romance, but it is still one of the noblest
wonder-tales of our own or any nation. Monuments and poetry and art must
forever perpetuate it, for it is full of spiritual meaning.

Lovers of missionary lore have read with delight the ideal romance of the
two brides who agreed to cross the Rocky Mountains wi