nd whispered fondly under that dun mustache.

"The ice was near the rapids now, so there isn't a great deal more t'
tell," continued the Father. "He put up one hand, did yer father, wavin'
it in a last salute--thankin', maybe, the men who had worked so hard
with the ropes.--O God o' Mercy, wast Thou not lookin' down upon Thy
servant as he gave his life cheerfully just t' comfort hers one minute
longer?

"The agony was short. The rapids caught the cake, which whirled like a
wheel--once. Then it tipped, breakin' again, crumblin' t' bits under
them, and they sank. There was just a glimpse, a second's, o' his head,
shinin' in the sun. Then they were gone--gone. God rest his soul--his
brave, brave soul! And God rest her soul, too!" The Father crossed
himself.

After awhile, having wiped his own eyes, he went on once more: "Behind
them swayed the rope as the men on the bridge slowly dragged it up and
up. And the people everywhere turned away, and started slowly home. Not
alt'gether sadly, though. For they'd seen a beautiful thing done, one
which was truly sublime. And later in yer life, lad dear, when ye hear
tell, manny a time, how this boy or that has had somethin' left t' him
by his father--land, maybe, or a great house, or money--then don't ye
fail t' remember what was left t' yerself! For yer father left ye more
than riches. He left ye the right t' be proud o' him, and t' respect and
honor him, and there's no grander inheritance than that! And the
sweetness which was yer mother's, along with the bravery o' yer father,
all are yer own, comin' t' ye in their blood which courses through yer
own veins. Inheritance! What a lot is in the word! Manny's the time I've
wondered about ye--how ye love what's decent and good--good books, and
right conduct, and t' be clean, and all the rest o' it. But now I
understand why. Come t' me, little son o' a good mother! Little son o' a
brave father!" The priest held out his hand.

As Johnnie came, Father Pat took from a pocket a leather case which,
when opened, disclosed--was it a piece of money? or an ornament? Johnnie
could not decide. But it was round, and beautiful, and of gold. Taken
from its case, it was heavy. On the obverse side it bore the likeness of
a man as old, nearly, as Grandpa; on the reverse, cut in a splendid
circle, were the words, _Greater love hath no man than this, that a man
lay down his life for his friends_. In the center, in lasting letters of
metal, were other