would _you_ have done, my little reader? Perhaps you would have
stopped to think a good many times, saying to yourself:

"Oh, I don't dare, I don't dare!"

And then, ah, _then_, it might have been too late!

Preston was called a slow boy, but he didn't stop to think once; he did
his thinking while he was pulling off his shoes.

"I must do it!" that was all he thought. And then he dashed in.

Bubby was in deep water already, and his struggles were carrying him
down stream. Preston seized him by his calico frock, and tried to drag
him toward the bank; but that dreadful baby had always had a habit of
nipping at everything like a snapping-turtle, and now he caught
Preston's throat between his thumb and forefinger, half strangling him.
And, oh, the current was so swift!

For a moment it was life or death with both of them; but Preston managed
to unclasp the tiny hand, hold it down, and land the poor little fellow
safe at last.

"God helped me--I knew he would!" thought brave Preston Gray, as he drew
his first long breath on the bank.

Of course all the little girls had gathered around him, screaming in
chorus, and it was a noisy procession that followed the weeping Patty
down the street, with the dripping baby in her arms.

"'Twas my brother that saved him, 'twas my brother Preston!" cried
Flaxie to everybody they met. "He jumped into the river and pulled out
the baby!"

That wasn't the end of it. There was another procession in the evening,
and this one stopped at Dr. Gray's gate. It was the Brass Band, out in
uniform; but Preston hadn't the least idea what for, till the men paused
at the end of a tune, swung their caps, and gave "Three cheers for
Master Preston Gray!"

Even then he didn't understand. He hid behind his father and thought he
_should_ like to know what his mother was crying about.

"Hurrah!" said the leader again, Major Patten, swinging his tall fur
cap, which was the pride of the whole company; "hurrah for the boy that
risked his life to save a drowning baby!"

"Oh, is that it? Anybody'd have done that!" thought little Preston,
hiding again. He was a modest boy; but his sister Flaxie, you know, was
quite too bold.

"Why don't he come out?" whispered she, pulling at his sleeve.

"Hush, let him alone," said Dr. Gray, with tears in his eyes.

And then he raised the noble boy in his arms, so the men could see him,
for that was what they wanted. But still Preston hid his face. His heart
was fu