rong.

But John had his own work laid out before him, and intended to make long
hours, so that he could hardly hope to come out to see his friend for a
while.

"Come Saturday night and spend Sunday. You can go to meeting here as
well as there."

And John answered:

"Yes, I will be glad to come."

Does this sudden friendship, this acceptance of utter strangers,
without a word spoken in their behalf, except what they spoke for
themselves, seem strange, unlikely, impossible? It did not seem strange
to John, till he came to think of it afterward as he walked home. Face
to face with these kind people, their mutual interest seemed natural
enough. In thinking about it, as he went swiftly on in the moonlight,
he did wonder a little. And yet why should he wonder? he asked himself.

"Honest folk ken one another, with few words about it. It has happened
well, and--not by chance," added he, reverently, recalling many a one at
home who would have him often in their thoughts at the best place--and
thinking especially of two, who, in all quiet moments, would be
"remembering" both him and his friend there.

It must not be forgotten that all this happened many years ago, before
all the nations of the earth had turned their faces toward the West, in
search of a refuge from poverty or tyranny, disgrace or despair. There
was room enough, and land enough for all who were willing to work and to
live honestly. Every strong and honest man who came, while he bettered
himself and those who belonged to him, did good also to his neighbours,
and to the country at large. And so in those days, as a rule, new
comers were well received. But beyond this, John and his friend were
liked for their own sakes, and might well rejoice at the welcome which
they got at the farmhouse, for a great many good things and happy days
came to them through the friends they found there, before all was done.

It is possible that if John had not met in with William Bain in those
circumstances, he might have travelled about for a while till he was
strong again, and then he might have turned his face homeward. If he
had found the lad well, and doing well, he might have contented himself
with leaving him to the kindly care, or the unobtrusive supervision of
Mr Hadden, who had known his family, and who had promised to befriend
him. But John could not quite free himself from a sense of
responsibility with regard to Willie Bain. He must keep sight of him
fo