ard. If you have never seen Frank Beard make pictures you know
nothing about what a good time she had. They were such funny pictures!
--just a few strokes of the magic crayon and the character described
would seem to start into life before you, and you would feel that you
could almost know what thoughts were passing in the heart of the
creature made of chalk. Eurie looked, and listened, and laughed. The old
deacon who thought the Sunday-school was being glorified too much had
his exact counterpart among her acquaintances, so far as his looks were
concerned. The three troublesome Sunday-school scholars fairly convulsed
her by their life-like appearance. There was the little scamp of a boy
who was revealed by the dozen to any one who took a walk down town
toward the close of the day; the argumentative old man, with his nose
pointing out a flaw in your reasoning or on the keen scent for a
mistake; and the pert fourteen-year-old girl whose very nose, as it
slightly turned upward, showed that she knew more than all the
logicians and theologians in the world.

This entertainment was exactly in Eurie's line. If there was anything in
the world that she was an adept at it was looking up weak points in the
characters of other people; and when the silly girl with but two
ideas--one of them bows and the other beaux--lived and breathed before
her on the blackboard her delight reached its climax.

"She is the very picture of Nettie Arnold!" she whispered to Marion.
"When I go home I mean to tell her that her photograph was displayed at
Chautauqua. She is just vain enough to believe it!"

Still the fun went on. Just a few bold, rapid strokes, and some
caricature breathed before them, so real that the character was guessed
before the explanation was given, and the ground rang with continued and
overpowering roars of laughter.

Into the midst of this entertainment came Dr. Vincent, his face aglow
with the exertion of hearty laughter, every feature of it expressive of
his hearty appreciation of this hour of recreation and yet every
feature alive and alert with a higher and more enduring feeling.

"Frank," he said, laying a friendly hand on the artist's arm, "our time
is almost up. Give us the symbol of the teacher's work."

There was an instant of rapid motion, a few skillful lines, and it
needed no word of explanation to recognize the great family Bible. "Now
the symbol of the teacher's hope," and on one page of the open Bible
the