come reconciled to
this method of studying the classics. On the contrary, it seemed to grow
increasingly sensitive upon the point. Finally the matter was brought to
a head in a very unsuspected manner.

No mention has been made in these pages of one who occupied a very large
place in Bert's affection and admiration--namely, the Rev. Dr. Chrystal,
the pastor of Calvary Church. Dr. Chrystal was a man of middle age and
medium height, with a countenance so winning and manners so attractive,
that Mr. Lloyd was wont to call him St. John, the beloved disciple,
because his name was John, and everybody who knew him loved him. It was
not merely by the elders of his congregation, who could fully appreciate
the breadth and soundness of his scholarship, the richness of his
rhetoric, and the warmth of his eloquence, but by the younger members
also, who loved his sunny smile, and hearty laugh, that Dr. Chrystal was
little short of worshipped.

Bert had been his warm admirer ever since the time when on his pastoral
visits he would take the little fellow up on his knee, and draw him out
about his own amusements and ambitions, giving such interested attention
to his childish prattle that Bert could not fail to feel he had in him a
real friend. As he grew older, his liking for the minister deepened. He
never had that foolish fear of "the cloth" which is so apt to be found
in boys of his age. Dr. Chrystal was a frequent visitor at Bert's home.
Mr. Lloyd was one of the main supporters of his church, and the two men
had much to consult about. Besides that, the preacher loved to discuss
the subjects of the day with the keen-witted, far-seeing lawyer, who
helped him to many a telling point for the sermon in preparation.

This, of course, was quite beyond Bert, but what he could and did fully
appreciate was the skill and strength with which Dr. Chrystal, having
laid aside his clerical coat, would handle a pair of sculls when he went
out boating with them, in the fine summer evenings.

"I tell you what it is, Frank," said he, enthusiastically to his friend
one day. "There's nothing soft about our minister. He can pull just as
well as any man in the harbour. That's the sort of minister I like.
Don't you?"

One Sunday evening, after Bert had been using his "pony" some little
time--for although his father had returned, he had come so to depend
upon it, that he continued to resort to it in secret--Dr. Chrystal
preached a sermon of more than usu