silent beauty of the hills, glistening in their frosty covering, set off
to advantage the silvery sheen of the ice-laden lake. Through the trees,
he caught occasional glimpses of East Hill winter-wrapped in its white
mantle. Just north of the city shone the resplendence of the ice-cloaked
rocks and waterfalls of Fall Creek Gorge, like a massive garniture
emblazoned on the mantle's skirt. The unbroken calm of the quiet winter
afternoon touched the rider's overwrought heart and awoke in him a sense
of the peace and the dignity of the visible creation. The untroubled
serenity and repose which all nature presented, soothed his troubled
spirit. Something of the unruffled confidence expressed by Tessibel,
when he'd last left her, penetrated his revery. Her words, "I know
Love's everywhere the hull time," had comforted him many times, and now
they came again upon their healing mission.

* * * * *

Tessibel's baby was one week old. This afternoon she lay partially
dressed on the cot while Andy was plying his noiseless way about the
kitchen. He stopped a moment on the journey to the stove and smiled at
the young mother.

"I bet he comes today," said he. "You'd better be gettin' that sorrow
offen yer face, brat."

"I ain't right sorryful, Andy," she answered. "I was jest thinkin' of
all the good things Mr. Young air done for me, an' hopin' he'd get you
free, too. Mebbe when Spring comes, Andy, you can run in the woods with
me!"

"I air prayin' for it every day, kid."

"When you ain't afeered of Auburn any more," said the girl, after a
moment's silence, "we'll go away from this shanty, an' mebbe we can both
work. That'd be nice, eh, Andy?"

"Anything'd be nice if I air with you, an' the baby, brat," he choked.

"Oh, you'll stay with us all right," smiled Tessibel. "Daddy left me to
take care of you an' I air goin' to do it!"

Conversation lagged for a time. The dwarf poured out a cup of tea, and
placed a large slice of bread on a plate with some potatoes and meat.
These he took to the bedside.

"I don't know what we'd a done without Jake," he observed, drawing his
chair to the table.

Tess was beginning to eat a late dinner. Between bites she smilingly
assented.

"Jake air a awful good man.... Andy, ain't the baby stirrin' on the
chair?"

The dwarf went to the improvised cradle and carefully drew away the
blanket.

"He wants turnin' on 'is other side, that air all." With deft fing