rtion, made over and over again, that
it required a peculiar sharpness to deal in cattle. There ought to be
other ways by which a man might earn money; there were other ways, and
he would find one of them. He believed that he could write a book and
sell it himself, by subscription. He knew a man who had done this, and
now there were stone gate-posts in front of his house. Talk was the
necessary equipment, and he could talk. The agent ought to be the echo
of the wisdom in the book, and to echo had been his fault in the
practical world. But echo was worthy of its hire.

"Why, let me tell you what I can do," he said, his face beaming. "I can
take a book on Babylon, on Jerusalem, Nineveh, Jericho, the Red Sea,
home, mother, and make a volume that the farmers will snap at. Easy!
Why, slipping on the ice is hard compared with it. What do you think of
it?"

"Looks all right," said Milford.

"Well, anything that looks all right is all right in the book business.
I thought of it coming over to-night, and instantly the road was
carpeted. Yes, sir, it is all right. I have the necessary books, and all
I have to do is to begin work at once. No, there is perhaps a
preliminary--a certain amount of correspondence with publishers. Chicago
is the subscription book center of the country. Oh, it is the plainest
sort of sailing."

Milford gave him the life insurance money, and he smiled as he tucked it
into his pocket. "This is my last worry," said he. "I have had hopes,
mere hopes, you understand, but now I am confident. It is the
speculative uncertainty that brings out a hope. But I am too old now to
find pleasure in the intoxication of hope. I want assurance, and I have
it. Well, I would like to sit longer and talk to you, but I must get to
work."

Milford walked a part of the way home with him, congratulating him upon
his happy idea. It was an inspiration. They wondered why it had not come
sooner. But inspirations have their own time, and we should be thankful
for their coming rather than to carp at their lateness.

As Milford was returning to the house, he heard the hired man singing at
his work in the barn. He had been away from home, and had come back
rather late for one who had stock to look after. When he came into the
house Milford asked the cause of his delay.

"Well, I got tangled up in an affair and had to see it through. I've
been up to Antioch, and I see your prize-fighter there. He threw a drink
into me because I wo