hand, and all the family
soon seemed like old friends.

"This is going to be a vacation worth having," I said to myself several
times during the evening, as we all played games, told riddles, and
laughed and chatted merrily.

At last Mrs. Davis said it was almost bedtime. Then I expected family
prayers, but we were very soon directed to our chambers. How strange it
seemed to me, for I had never before been in a household without the
family altar.

"Come," said Fred, "mother says you and I are going to be bed fellows,"
and I followed him up two pair of stairs to a nice little chamber which
he called his room. He opened a drawer and showed me a box, and boat,
and knives, and powderhorn, and all his treasures, and told me a world
of new things about what the boys did there.

Then he undressed first and jumped into bed. I was much longer about it,
for a new set of thoughts began to rise in my mind.

When my mother put my purse into my hand, just before the train started,
she said tenderly, in a low tone, "Remember, Robert, that you are a
Christian boy."

I knew very well what that meant, and I had now just come to a point of
time when her words were to be minded.

At home I was taught the duties of a Christian child; abroad I must not
neglect them, and one of these was evening prayer. From a very little
boy I had been in the habit of kneeling and asking the forgiveness of
God, for Jesus' sake, acknowledging His mercies, and seeking His
protection and blessing.

"Why don't you come to bed, Robert?" cried Fred. "What are you sitting
there for?"

I was afraid to pray, and afraid not to pray. It seemed that I could not
kneel down and pray before Fred. What would he say? Would he not laugh?
The fear of Fred made me a coward. Yet I could not lie down on a
prayerless bed. If I needed the protection of my heavenly Father at
home, how much more abroad.

I wished many wishes; that I had slept alone, that Fred would go to
sleep, or something else, I hardly knew what. But Fred would not go to
sleep.

Perhaps struggles like these take place in the bosom of every boy when
he leaves home and begins to act for himself, and on his decision may
depend his character for time, and for eternity. With me the struggle
was severe.

[Illustration: "_I will kneel down and pray first_."]

At last, to Fred's cry, "Come, boy, come to bed," I mustered courage to
say, "I will kneel down and pray first; that is always my custom."
"Pray?