d what it is some day to mean to them.

"It is your duty to teach him ... to obediently keep God's holy will and
commandments all of his life," were the closing words of the address
with which the parson looked us full in the eye and laid the vow upon
our souls. Then he reached out his hands, drew the Stray to him first,
encircled him with his strong arm, laid his hands on the bowed black
head, and looking me straight in the eye asked the question of his
ritual:

"Name this child."

For an instant I glanced at Martha and then at father standing beside
me, and as he nodded I slightly bent my head and into a deathly
stillness all over the chapel I let the name fall clear and distinct:

"Nickols Morris Powers."

A beautiful ray of light flooded from one of the tall windows over both
of us as he ratified the name with a few drops of water upon the boy's
brow, and then turned to Harriet and repeated his question while he took
the Suckling into his arms with the greatest tenderness. Then through
the group he went, naming his lambs as he held them against his heart or
within the circle of his strong arm. It was all so tender and so
beautiful that every eye in the chapel was wet with tears and sobs
echoed softly through his last prayer.

However, at one time in the ceremonial there was danger of a laugh from
the aggregate, overwrought nerves when Charlotte promptly named herself
without waiting for Nell's response which came late but in time to save
embarrassment.

Then it was all over and the whole congregation trooped but into the
sunshine. Father walked home with young Nickols on one side and
Charlotte on the other, Martha carrying the Suckling and walking beside
Harriet, who led Sue past the destruction of her white dress which every
mud puddle threatened. Cliff Gray came with me slowly up the street
after all the others had gone ahead and most of them had turned into the
gates of their respective homes.

"Is everything all right now, Cliff?" I questioned him, as we walked
slowly under the old elms of our ancestors' planting. "It is all right
now?" I asked again, while Cliff looked off into the distance.

"I have faith that I can make it that way now, Charlotte dear," he
answered, as I paused to turn in at my gate. We clasped hands for a
second and then he went on down the street toward the Cockrell gate; and
Letitia's material point of view on existence I knew would have a fair
chance at his hands.

I felt tha