OT HIS OWN WAY.

BY MRS. Z. B. GUSTAFSON.

He was all by himself in as pretty a patch of sunny green meadow-land as
you could wish to see, yet he had plenty of company. To say nothing of
the birds chattering on the fence, the tall thick grass was as full of
hopping, fluttering, and creeping things as a wheat beard is of grain.
These tiny little creatures seemed to find life so pleasant and
comfortable, and the glisten and "swish" of John Goodnow's scythe so
very odd and amusing, that they kept only a little out of his way as he
mowed, and when he stopped to whet his scythe they flocked around and
settled on his boot-legs, on the brim of his hat, and even in the
creases of his shirt sleeves, to see how he did it.

John Goodnow was just sixteen. He was a manly boy, strong, straight, and
good-looking. He had plenty of spirit and energy, and liked what he was
doing well enough; but he had some ideas in his head which made him
think he could do something else much--very much--better.

John's father did not happen to think about John as John thought about
himself. This very often happens between parents and their children.
Your parents are older and wiser than you, but then you boys and girls
often think a great deal more, and with more good sense, than you get
credit for. When your parents do not think as you do about what you are
to be and do in life, it is hard to tell which is wisest, and there is
no sure rule to help you out; but I will tell you one little thing that
I think it will be good for you to remember; it is very much in your own
power to decide for yourself, to _get your own way by giving it up_, as
John did.

"I wish father could see this as I do," John thought.

He had put the whetstone in his pocket, and was once more leaning to the
scythe.

"Of course I _can_ be a farmer, and of course farmers are as necessary
as Presidents; and a farmer can be a President, and eat potatoes and
corn in the White House, instead of hoeing and hilling them in the
field. But I want to be a lawyer, and that settles it for me. I just
wish it would do as much for father. He _did_ look queer when I told him
I didn't believe a lawyer that was always hankerin' after a farm would
amount to much in lawyerin'. Mother said, 'Do let the boy have his way;
it's his life he's got to live, you know, not yours.'

"She's so sensible, and just the best mother in the world. I made up my
mind, when she said that, that if I did get my wa