was placed lengthwise over the front gate and painted white,
and on it, in somewhat clumsy printing, was the announcement:--"Quickest
way to Endwell Railway-Station. Dry all the way. Admission, one
penny."

About eight o'clock the business men came hurrying along under their
umbrellas, for it was still drizzling. They looked at Bernard in a
curious way and then at the signboard, but they scarcely grasped the
situation, and plunged heroically into the five hundred yards of mud.

At nine o'clock a wealthy stockbroker came panting along, late for his
train; so Bernard shouted to him: "Come my way, Mr Blunt; it will save
you five hundred yards and all that horrid mud!"

"Hullo, Gray; back from school?" he gasped. "What's the idea, eh?"

So Bernard told him his scheme in as few words as possible.

"Then I'll be your first patron, my boy," and Mr Blunt held out a
shilling. "There's your first capital."

"Only a penny," laughed Bernard, pushing back the kind hand, and
pointing to his signboard.

"Oh, we are proud," said Mr Blunt. "Well, I wish you luck! Through
you I shall catch my train, and it means a little matter to me to the
tune of three hundred pounds."

A week after this, scores of people went through Bernard's garden
morning and evening, and the whole place rang with his plucky
experiment. "Four pounds, five and sixpence for the first week, Mother;
but we will do better yet," said Bernard.

Many people came through the gates from sheer curiosity, and nearly
everyone preferred paying him the penny toll, instead of walking the
five hundred yards of uneven road, even on dry days! In the following
spring, Endwell suddenly grew into such an important place that the
railway company was compelled to enlarge the station, and a director
being informed of Bernard's experiment, and the distinct value of a
shorter approach, came to see Mrs Gray about her little property, but
she would not be "talked over" by the smart director. Then an
enterprising builder came, and made a very tempting offer. Still she
resisted. At last, however, the railway people offered a price which it
would have been folly to refuse, so Bernard was forced to give up his
"scheme."

Mrs Gray now lives in a pretty flat in South Kensington with her
faithful old Dolly, surrounded by many of her former luxuries, but she
is happiest in the possession of such a brave and noble son. Bernard's
future is assured, for he showed all the qualiti