ajor touched the bending youth and murmured something more. John
turned back upon him a stare of incredulity, but Garnet smiled kindly
and said aloud,

"I tell you yes; it will be announced to-morrow."

"Father," cried John, stooping close to the wandering eyes, "can you see
me? I'm John! I'm son! Can you hear me, father? Father, I've got first
honors--first honors, father! Oh, father, look into my eyes; it will be
a sign that you hear me. Father, listen, look; I'm going to be a better
son--to you and to mother--Oh, he hears me! He understands--" The
physician drew him away.

They carried the sick man to the nearest house. Late in the afternoon
Tom Hersey and two or three others were talking together near the
post-office.

"Now, f'r instance, what right had he to give that boy first honors! As
sho's you're a foot high, that's a piece o' pyo log-rollin'."--Doctor
Coffin came by.--"Doctor, I understand Mrs. March has arrived. I hope
the Jedge is betteh, seh.--What?--Why--why, you supprise--why, I'm
mighty sorry to heah that, seh.--Gentlemen, Jedge March is dead."

XXIV.

THE GOLDEN SPIKE

About a week beyond the middle of June, 1878, when John March had been
something like a year out of Rosemont and nine months a teacher of
mountain lads and lasses at Widewood, Barbara finished at Montrose. She
did not read her graduation essay. Its subject was Time. Its spelling
was correct, and it was duly rosetted and streamered, but it was
regretfully suppressed because its pages were mainly given to joyous
emphasis of the advantages of wasting the hours. Miss Garnet had not
been a breaker of rules; yet when she waved farewell and the younger
Miss Kinsington turned back indoors saying,

"Dearest, best girl!" the sister added, affectionately--

"That we ever got rid of."

On a day near the middle of the following month there began almost at
dawn to be a great stir in and about Suez. The sun came up over Widewood
with a shout, hallooing to Rosemont a promise for all Dixie of the most
ripening hours, thus far, of the year, and woods, fields, orchards,
streams, answered with a morning incense. Johanna stood whispering
loudly at Barbara's bedside:

"Week up, honey; sun high an' scoldin'! jess a-fuss-in' an' a-scoldin'!"
One dark hand lifted back the white mosquito-net while the other
tendered a cup of coffee.

Barbara winked, scowled, laid her wrists on the maid's shoulders and
smiled into her black face. Johanna pu