han anything I have ever wanted but I can't afford to go." Now she
wanted to go with her friends and she would have to say to him, "I want a
good time more than I want the conference." The conference would come
again the next year, but this invitation might never come again.

To be sure, she had many, many good times. Maybe she would have a good
time at the conference. Which did she want the more? If she went with her
friends, she could not do the winter work at the church as it ought to be
done. But there was the last sentence. "We--no, I--must have you to share
our good times." That meant a lot to her as she read it. Should she go to
the conference or should she go to the camp?

Mechanically she turned the other letters over. There was one from mother,
and one from a school friend, and a business letter--oh, here was a
correspondence card from Mrs. Lane, her teacher in the Church School.

"Dear Mrs. Lane," thought Mary. "How I should love to see her! She was
going to Maine. I wonder if this little snapshot is a picture of some
pines where she is staying."

After looking long at the beautiful, tall pines in the picture, she turned
to the card and read,

"Dear Mary:

"As we came up the beautiful Sebago Lake last week, I saw something
that reminded me of you so strongly that I must tell you of it. Away
off in the distance, we saw some wonderful pines that towered high
above the rest. They seemed so tall that we spoke to the pilot of the
boat about them and he told us this story about them.

"'Years and years ago, before this land was settled by any but the
Indians, King George of England sent men to this country to look for
tall trees that would make good masts for his ships. They went up the
rivers and lakes looking everywhere for the special trees. Here on
these hills they found these great trees. So the men marked "K.G." on
the trees, charted them on a map which they carried, and went on
their way. But for some reason they were never cut and carried away
to be used on his ships. There they stand to-day, strong and
straight, marked for masts.'

"After the old man had finished his story and had left us, I said to
my friend, 'Marked for a mast because it is straight and strong. I
have a girl who also is marked for a mast and some day she will carry
with her, under her colors, many boys and girls. We are sending her
to the leaders' conference this summer so that she may begi