adder up,
Whose golden rounds are our calamities."

And the passages to which they pointed read:

"My son, despise not the chastening of the Lord, nor faint
when thou art rebuked of him; for whom the Lord loveth he
chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth. If ye
receive chastenings, God dealeth with you as with sons, for what
son is he whom the father chasteneth not?"

The book dropped from the reader's trembling grasp. It was then that the
Angel of Mercy said, "It is enough," and touched the young man's heart.
The long pent-up spring burst forth, and Rupert sobbed like a child. By
a huge gray rock sheltered by the pines, he uttered his first prayer to
God. For a full hour he prayed and wept, until a peaceful spirit
overpowered him, and he slept.

Rupert awoke with a changed heart, though he was weak and faint. Evening
was coming on and he saw the smoke curling from the chimney of a
farmhouse half a mile below. Painfully, he made his way down to it.

A young man was feeding the cows for the night, and Rupert went up to
him, and said:

"Good evening, sir; have you any objection to my sleeping in your barn
tonight?"

The man eyed him closely. Tramps did not often come to his
out-of-the-way place.

"Do you smoke?"

"No, sir."

"Then I have no objection, though I don't like tramps around the place."

"Thank you, sir."

The man moved off, but turned again. "Have you had any supper?" he
asked.

"No; but I do not care for anything to eat, thank you."

"Strange tramp, that," said the man to himself, "not to want anything to
eat. Well, go into the shanty and warm yourself, anyway."

In the shanty, Rupert found an old stove glowing with a hot fire, by the
side of which he seated himself. The night was chilly in that high
altitude, and Rupert spread out his palms to the warmth. Inside the
house, he heard the rattle of dishes and the voices of women. Then
strains of songs floated out to him, and he became an intent listener.
Soon from out the humming came two sweet voices, singing. Rupert sat as
one spellbound, as the song seemed to melt into his soul:

"O my Father, thou that dwellest
In the high and glorious place!
When shall I regain thy presence,
And again behold thy face?
In thy holy habitation,
Did my spirit once reside;
In my first primeval childhood,
Was I nurtured near thy side.

"For a wise and glorious purpose
Thou hast placed me here on e