with him; I don't
know what it is. He was taken sick when we were harnessing."

"What is the matter, my son?" asked the old man, cheerily, looking over
the gate.

Sam lay upon the turf, with his head on his arm, for a pillow.

"Nothing," he muttered, in a ghastly tone, without looking up.

"Come, I am going away. I want to bid you good-bye."

Sam groaned again; but endeavoring to conquer his malady, he sat up, and
raised his swimming eyes. Mr. Royden took him by the shoulder, and
helped him to his feet.

"What is the matter?" he demanded.

"Nothing, sir," said Sam. "I'm a little sick, that's all. I shall have
to set down again."

He sank upon the turf, and groaned, with his face in the grass.

Father Brighthopes was expressing a great deal of sympathy for him, when
Chester came and explained the mystery.

"He has been chewing tobacco," said he, with a cruel laugh. "I told him
it would make him sick."

"You foolish fellow!" exclaimed Mr. Royden; "what did you do that for?"

"I only jest wanted to learn how," moaned Sam.

"Learn how!"

"'Cos all the men chew," added the boy, sitting up again, and burying
his face in his hands, as the deathly feeling came over him once more.

"Well, well," said the old man, in an encouraging tone, "let this
experience be a lesson to you. Let alone the weed. You can be a man
without it, if you try. Good-by, good-by, my son!"

He got into the wagon, leaving the unhappy lad still moaning and
writhing with anguish on the green-sward.

Mark Wheeler arrived at the gate, having come to take leave of Father
Brighthopes, just as Chester and his father were driving away with their
aged friend.

The jockey rode the one-eyed colt, which he still retained in his
possession,--a perpetual remembrancer of a memorable day in his rugged
and uneven life.

He dismounted, and shook hands with the old man. Mark was much affected
by his kind wishes and gentle admonitions; but the presence of Mr.
Royden and Chester embarrassed him, and he could not express his
feelings.

"Come," said Mr. Royden, observing the state of affairs, "I suppose we
have not much time to lose."

"I will ride along with you," replied Mark, throwing himself upon the
back of the one-eyed colt.

Mrs. Royden, Hepsy and the children, watched the little party as they
rode away, Chester driving, while his father sat with the gray-haired
clergyman on the seat behind him, and Mark trotted his colt along on the
road-sid