deliberately mislaid the same
sister and claimed the usual rates for finding her, and in this manner
did a thriving "Lost and Found" business for days, until his
unsuspecting parent overheard him giving his sister full directions
for losing herself--he had grown tired of having to go with her each
time, and claimed that as she always got half of the treat she should
do her share of the work. Who once thrashed a boy who said that his
sister had a dirty face,--which was quite true, but people do not need
to say everything they know, do they? Who went swimming in the gravel
pit long before the 24th of May, which marks the beginning of swimming
and barefoot time in all proper families, and would have got away with
it, too, only, in his haste to get a ride home, he and his friend
changed shirts by mistake, and it all came to light at bedtime.

Then I lost him, too. There came in his place a tall youth with a
distinct fondness for fine clothes, stiff collars, tan boots, and
bright ties; a dignified young man who was pained and shocked at the
disreputable appearance of a younger brother who was at that time
passing through the wash-never period of his life and who insisted
upon claiming relationship even in public places. Who hung his room
with flags and pennants and photographs. Who had for his friends many
young fellows with high pompadours, whom he called by their surnames
and disputed with noisily and abusively, but, unlike the famous
quarrel of Fox and Burke, "with no loss of friendship." Who went in
his holidays as "mule-skinner" on a construction gang in the North
Country, and helped to build the railway into "The Crossing," and came
home all brown and tanned, with muscles as hard as iron and a luscious
growth of whiskers. Who then went back to college and really began to
work, for he had learned a few things about the value of an education
as he drove the mules over the dump, which can be learned only when
the muscles ache and the hands have blisters.

Then came the call! And again I lost him! But there is a private in
the "Princess Pats" who carries my picture in his cap and who reads my
letter over again just before "going in."

CHAPTER V

SAVING OUR SOULS

O work--thrice blessed of the gods--
Abundant may you be!
To hold us steady, when our hearts
Grow cold and panicky!

I cannot fret--and drive the plough,--
Nor weep--and ply the spade;
O blessed work--I need you now
To kee