le with me
this fall."

"I wish I were, with all my heart, old fellow," said Stuart, with the
utmost heartiness. "I worked like a Jehu to get ready to enter, but I
didn't accomplish it; never mind, just you look out for me next fall.
I'll be there as sure as my name is Milburn."

"Stuart," his Cousin Robert said, a little later, as they were coming
up the walk together, "I wish you were going this road to heaven with
me," and Stuart answered nothing and looked annoyed and wished his
cousin would let him alone. Now, if you see any sense to that you see
more than I do.

As to the "old maids" there was only one of them in his uncle's
family, and as she was his own mother's own sister, and he had often
been heard to say that she was the very best old aunty that a fellow
ever had, one would think he might have excused her for wanting him to
go to heaven where his mother had been waiting for him for three
years.

However he didn't. It was her softly spoken sentence as they rose from
prayers that morning: "I prayed for you all the time, Stuart," that
had sent him off in a pet with his fishing rod over his shoulder.

"You may go along," he said to Tiger; "thank fortune you can't talk;
if you could no doubt you would ask me to go to prayer-meeting
to-night. What a preaching set they are! I wish I had known it, and I
would have steered clear of them and gone home with Randolph. Well,
I'll have one good day; there isn't a house within four miles of the
point where I am going, and fishes can't preach. I will live in rest
for one morning. We will have some good rational enjoyment all by
ourselves, won't we, Tiger? And carry home a string of trout for Aunt
Mattie, to pay her for looking so sober at us this morning."

Saying which he snapped his fingers cheerily at the dog, and sent him
in search of a ground squirrel, and made believe that he was perfectly
happy. What do you suppose came into Stuart's mind and heart before
he had held his rod in the water ten minutes, and followed him up with
a persistent voice all the morning? Nothing so very new nor strange,
nothing but what he had known ever since he was a little boy five
years old, and had stood at his mother's knee, one summer Sunday
morning, and said it to her; it was just this little verse: "Follow
me, and I will make you fishers of men."

It was wonderful with what a clear voice that seemed to be said over
in his ear. He looked around him once, startled, half expectin