re
crafts, and noting the lazy ripples of the green wavelets. Their hearts
grow tender with a mighty love that finds no language in which to clothe
itself.

Every blessing of life is theirs; every cadence that affection knows
makes harmony in their words. Gayly-dressed children pass by, some with
toy balloons, bounding into air. Evelyn shuddered at even this tiny
reminder of her reckless adventure, and clinging to her husband's arm,
blesses him and the day that confided her to his keeping. Accident had
tested his noble nature as the ordinary course of events never could
have done; and now was fulfilled the last wish of his parents, that in
Evelyn Howard should Weldon Gardner find the glory of heaven's last,
best gift to man.

Hezekiah's Wooing

A FIRESIDE SKETCH

"Walk right in, Mr. Lightus, do," said the cheery voice of the Widow
Partridge, as the portly figure of Mr. Hezekiah Lighthouse appeared in
her hospitable doorway.

"Thankee, thankee, I don't care if I do, Mis' Patridge," responded the
visitor, heavily bringing himself within the family circle.

"How's all?" he asked, comfortably establishing himself in the
arm-chair.

"Middlin', thankee," said the widow. "I've been enjoyin' very poor
health till lately. Now I seem to be pickin' up a little," as brushing
the seat of a rocker with her gingham apron, she sat down at the
opposite end of the hearth.

"An' Cicely Ann--how's she?"

"Oh, she--why she's allers the picture o' health. Here she comes now."

As she spoke, a fair, rosy-cheeked girl entered the cheerful room, with
her arms full of painting materials. These she deposited upon the table,
then dutifully greeted the visitor.

"An' how do you like them new fol-de-rols, Cicely Ann?" inquired
Hezekiah, eyeing askance the collection.

The fol-de-rols consisted of some wooden plaques of different sizes,
which the new art craze had brought to the widow's cottage.

"She's gettin' along right nice, I think," replied the widow, looking
proudly at her one chick. "You see, she's a lot o' darnin' an' one thing
another to do, but she finds time for her landskips and things."

"Well, mebbe so," assented Hezekiah grudgingly. "For my part there's
nothing set's a gal off like spinnin' an' weavin', an' it puts more
money in her pocket, besides."

"La, Mr. Lightus," said the widow deprecatingly, "spinnin' an' weavin's
gone out o' fashion. Gals will be gals, and they mostly go in for
fashion, you know."