for a long time. Weren't those old Persians
wonderful people? Of course they had no means of knowing the real truth
but it surely was the next thing to it to worship the dear sun. It goes
away and leaves things dark and dismal, and there may be hail and sleet
and rain, and the outlook is all dark, but presently the clouds move and
the fog blows away and the path of light twinkles over the big ocean and
the very grasses of the hillsides perk up and the birds try to split
their little throats with song. They are all sun-worshippers.

Of course you want to know at once how it all came about. I am still
shaky and uncertain, as if I had just been awakened. Sometimes I hardly
believe that it is the real truth that I behold, but merely some vision
that must pass away like the gold and the crimson of the fading day.

John is getting well! I feel that I want to shout it farther than the
voice of man ever carried before. I wish that wonderful Marconi could set
all these little waves he makes in the air to vibrating at once and carry
over the whole world the tidings that my John is going to live! Of course
there were a few very dreadful days, and some nights that were agony, and
that nice little doctor lost his red cheeks and looked pale and wan, and
of course I was very, very tired. That dear Mrs. Barnett or her husband
were always with me, and no one could ever make Frenchy leave the place
for a minute, and old Sammy hovered around constantly. The people walked
about the tiny village as if it had been a town smitten by a great
pestilence, as used to happen in those old dark ages. There have been no
more cases, because the doctor has injected some of that stuff in the
arms of all who had been in the slightest degree exposed, and it doesn't
hurt very much, Aunt Jennie.

But the amazing day was the one upon which I arose, before dawn, because
they had just forced me to go to bed the night before, and I hurried down
to Frenchy's, in the keen cold air, and met Dr. Johnson who was quietly
pacing the road and smoking his pipe, which must have been very bad for
him so early in the morning. But then I think we have all lost count of
hours. When he heard my steps he turned quickly, and his cheeks looked
quite pink again, perhaps owing to the cold, and his eyes were just as
bright as bright could be, and he just ran towards me. I think my hands
began to shake, for I had lost all memory of what a happy face looked
like, I think, and the s