ght as he strode along
the footpath? A day of invigorating and manly toil behind him, folded
up in the sense of work accomplished; a clear sky overhead, beginning
to breed stars; the pale amber hope of to-morrow's sunrise low down in
the west; a frosty air around him, challenging to the surface the glow
of the forge which his day's labor had stored in his body; his heart
and brain at rest with his father in heaven; his precious violin under
his arm; before him the welcoming parlor, where two sweet women waited
his coming, one of them the brightest angel, in or out of heaven, to
him; and the prospect of a long evening of torrent-music between
them--who, I repeat, could have been more blessed, heart, and soul, and
body, than Joseph Jasper? His being was like an all-sided lens
concentrating all joys in the one heart of his consciousness. God only
knows how blessed he could make us if we would but let him! He pressed
his violin-case to his heart, as if it were a living thing that could
know that he loved it.

Before he reached the town, the stars were out, and the last of the
sunset had faded away. Earth was gone, and heaven was all. Joseph was
now a reader, and read geology and astronomy: "I've got to do with them
all!" he said to himself, looking up. "There lie the fields of my
future, when this chain of gravity is unbound from my feet! Blessed am
I here now, my God, and blessed shall I be there then."

When he reached the suburbs, the light of homes was shining through
curtains of all colors. "Every nest has its own birds," said Joseph;
"every heart its own joys!" Just then, he was in no mood to think of
the sorrows. But the sorrows are sickly things and die, while the joys
are strong divine children, and shall live for evermore.

When he reached the streets, all the shops he passed were closed,
except the beer-shops and the chemists'. "The nettle and the dock!"
said Joseph.

When he reached Mary's shop, he turned into the court to the
kitchen-door. "Through the kitchen to the parlor!" he said. "Through
the smithy to the presence-chamber! O my God--through the mud of me, up
to thy righteousness!"

He was in a mood for music--was he not? One might imagine the violin
under his arm was possessed by an angel, and, ignoring his ears, was
playing straight into his heart!

Beenie let him in, and took him up to the parlor. Mary came half-way to
meet him. The pressure as of heaven's atmosphere fell around him,
calming and