good are just as likely to die as the rest of us."

"Ah, yes, but it isn't just that little minute of dying that you and I
are afraid of; it is _afterward_. We are afraid of what will come next.
You see, I know all about it, for I was awfully afraid; I had such a
fear as I suppose you know nothing about. When it thundered I shivered
as if I had a chill, and it seemed to me as if every flash of lightning
was going to kill me; and when I went on a journey I could enjoy nothing
for the fear that there might be an accident and I might be killed. But
I declare to you that I have found something that has taken the fear
away. I do not mean that I would like to be killed, or that I am tired
of living, or anything of the sort. I like to live a great deal better
than I ever did before; I think the world is twice as nice, and
everything a great deal pleasanter; but when I was coming home from
Chautauqua I would waken in the night in the sleeping-car, and I found
to my surprise that, although I thought of the same thing, the
possibility that there might be an accident that would cost me my life,
yet I felt that horrible sense of fear and dread was utterly gone. I
could feel that though death in itself might be sad and solemn, yet it
was, after all, but the step that opened the door to joy. In short"--and
here Flossy's face shone with a rare sweet smile--"I _know_ that the
truth as it is in Jesus has made me free."

Rich. was utterly silent. What could he reply in the face of this
simple, quiet "I _know_?" To say, "I don't believe it," would be the
height of folly, and he realized it.

As for the rest, they had listened to this talk with various degrees of
interest; the most of them amused that Rich. should be drawn into any
talk so serious, and be evidently so earnest.

Let me tell you a little about these young men. They were not from the
very lowest depths of society; that is, they had homes and family ties,
and they had enough to eat and to wear; in fact they earned these
latter, each for himself. There were two of them who had the advantage
of the public schools, and were fair sort of scholars. Rich. Johnson was
one of these, and was therefore somewhat looked up to and respected by
those, even, who would not have gone to school another day if they
could.

But they were far enough out of the reach of Flossy Shipley; so far that
she had never come in contact with one of them before in her life. She
had no idea as to their