gaged in an animated conversation on the porch.

The girl told of the little child she had found crying in the road, and
gave a humorous account of the young countryman trying to put her on
her horse.

"He was very good-looking, too," she declared gayly. "I think he must be
studying for the ministry, like Mr. Rimmon, for he quoted the Bible."

Both Mrs. Yorke and Mrs. Nailor thought it rather improper for her to be
riding alone on the public roads.

The next day Keith put on his best suit of clothes when he went to
school, and that afternoon he walked home around the Ridge, as he had
done the day before, thinking that possibly he might meet the girl
again, but he was disappointed. The following afternoon he determined to
go over to the Springs and see if she was still there and find out who
she was. Accordingly, he left the main road, which ran around the base
of the Ridge, and took a foot-path which led winding up through the
woods over the Ridge. It was a path that Gordon often chose when he
wanted to be alone. The way was steep and rocky, and was so little used
that often he never met any one from the time he plunged into the woods
until he emerged from them on the other side of the Ridge. In some
places the pines were so thick that it was always twilight among them;
in others they rose high and stately in the full majesty of primeval
growth, keeping at a distance from each other, as though, like another
growth, the higher they got the more distant they wished to hold all
others. Trees have so much in common with men, it is no wonder that the
ancients, who lived closer to both than we do nowadays, fabled that
minds of men sometimes inhabited their trunks.

Gordon Keith was in a particularly gloomy frame of mind on this day. He
had been trying to inspire in his pupils some conception of the poetry
contained in history. He told them the story of Hannibal--his aim, his
struggles, his conquest. As he told it the written record took life, and
he marched and fought and lived with the great Carthaginian
captain--lived for conquest.

"Beyond the Alps lies Italy." He had read the tale with lips that
quivered with feeling, but as he looked up at his little audience, he
met only listless eyes and dull faces. A big boy was preparing a pin to
evoke from a smaller neighbor the attention he himself was withholding.
The neighbor was Dave Dennison. Dave was of late actually trying to
learn something. Dave was the only boy who w