eally thing."

"I don't want t' break the wee heart o' ye," protested the Father,
tenderly. "And so maybe we'll wait?"

"No, sir." Johnnie opened his eyes. "I'm goin' t' feel b-bad. But please
don't mind me. I'm thinkin' of Edith Cavell, and that'll help."

"God love the lad!" returned the Father, choking a little. "And I'll go
on. For I'm thinkin' it's better t' hear the truth, even when that truth
is bitter, than t' be anxiously in doubt." Then, Johnnie having assented
by a nod, "That rift grew wider and wider. As they stopped runnin' after
the veil, and turned, they saw it, the two o' them. 'Tis said that the
young wife gave a great cry, and ran back towards the Falls, and stood
close t' the rim o' the ice, and held out her two hands most pitiful.
But all who were on the ice had scattered, the most t' hurry t' do
somethin' which would help."

"Oh, they _must_ hurry!"--it was Cis this time, the pointed chin
trembling.

"Ropes--they got ropes, for there was a monster bridge below, which the
two will pass under before long, as the ice-cake floats that far. And
the ropes must be ready, and let down t' save 'em.--Yes, rods o' rope
were lowered, as fast as this could be managed, and as close as possible
t' where the men on the bridge judged the pair on the ice would go by.
There was a big loop in the end that trailed t' the river. But long as
that rope was, shure, it wasn't long enough, though the man was able t'
catch it--and what a shout o' joy went up!--and he could've slipped it
over his own head as easy as easy, but he would not do it--no, not
without _her_. But, oh, as he leaned to drop the big loop around her
(another rope was comin' down at the same time for him), she weakened,
and fainted in his arms, and lay there in the snow.

"He lifted her--quick! But before he could pass the loop over her head,
the current swept her on. Now there was still time for him t' spring
back and save himself--save her, he could not. But he would not leave
her lyin' there and save himself, and so--and so----"

"Oh, has he _got_ t' die?" pleaded Johnnie, brokenly.

"Johnnie," went on the Father, gently, "we're not on this earth just t'
have a good time, or an easy time,--no, or a safe time. We're here t' do
our duty, and this is how yer father thought. Lad, dear, some day ye'll
come t' a tight place yerself. And ye'll have t' decide what ye're t'
do: go this way, which is the easiest, or that, which is the hard path
o' duty, a