s mother's letter over and over. He read and
reread it. It was very sad. Her splendid boys both gone from her, one
possibly never to return--neither of them married and with no hope of
grandchildren to solace her declining years. "Stay where you are,
David," she wrote; "Doctor Hoyle tells us you are doing well. Don't, oh,
don't enter the army! One son I have surrendered to my country's
service; let me feel that I still have one on whom I may depend to care
for Laura and me in the years to come. We do not need you now, but some
day we may."

David's quandary was how to give her as much of his confidence as filial
duty required without betraying himself so far as to arouse the
antagonistic comment of her immediate circle upon his course.

At last he found a way. Telling her he did not know how soon he might
return to Canada, he requested her to continue to address him there. He
then filled his letter with loving thoughts for her and Laura, and a
humorous description of what he had seen and experienced in the "States"
and the country about him, all so foreign and utterly strange to her as
to be equal to a small manuscript romance. It was a cleverly written
letter, so hiding the vital matters of his soul, which he could not
reveal even to the most loving scrutiny, that all her motherly intuition
failed to read between the lines. The humorous portions she gave to the
rector's wife,--her most intimate friend,--and the dear son's love
expressed therein she treasured in her heart and was comforted.

Then David rode away up the mountain without descending to his little
farm. He craved to get far into the very heart of the wildest parts,
for with the letters the old conventional and stereotyped ideals seemed
to have intruded into his cabin.

He passed the home of Hoke Belew and stopped there to see that all was
well with them. The rose vine covering the porch roof was filled with
pink blossoms, hundreds of them swinging out over his head. The air was
sweet with the odor of honeysuckle. The old locust tree would soon be
alive with bees, for it was already budded. He took the baby in his arms
and saw that its cheeks were growing round and plump, and that the young
mother looked well and happy, and he was glad.

"Take good care of them, Hoke; they are worth it," he said to the young
father, as he passed him coming in from the field.

"I will that," said the man.

"Can you tell me how to reach a place called 'Wild Cat Hole'? I