the earth, so that you shall be pure; I shall walk in meditation and
solitude, so that your thoughts shall be worthy thoughts; I shall dwell
on the hillsides, so that your mind shall be lofty; I shall love all
living things, so that you shall be godly in the love of your kind; I
shall be humble, so that you shall not be proud; I shall be tender,
wandering among the sweet flowers, so that you shall never be rough or
unkindly; I shall serve, so that you shall be kingly in your service to
others.

"Down in the valleys I shall linger, drinking in the music of sweet
streams; and the songs of the morning and the eventide shall make you
gentle and happy. The tender grass shall be my couch upon the moor, so
that you can know the restfulness and comfort of love. The grateful
trees shall shade me from the fierce heat of the sun, so that you shall
be restful, yet active in kind deeds. Oh, I shall clothe me in the
sweetest thoughts, and sing the sweetest songs, speak the kindliest
words, and do the friendliest deeds--I shall lie down in gratitude for
all that has ever been rendered to me, and shall keep faith with love,
so that you--you who are me, you who are my heart and mind, my body and
soul shall be ushered into the world as a savior of the race; and the
lyrics of the dawn and the dayfall, of the golden, glorious day, and the
silver radiant night, shall all be thine to interpret, in spirit and in
word and service."

Thus had motherhood sung in all ages, weaving the dreams of hope about
the soul which she had called from eternity, after having gone upon that
long perilous journey into the land of Everywhere to bring back a new
life to the world. Mysie dashed the warm tears from her eyes, and looked
again through the chink in the shutter.

She had a full view of the kitchen. It was the same cosy, bright place
it had always been, when she had sat there on the corner of the fender
o' nights, her head against her father's knee, as he read out the news
from the evening paper, while her mother sewed, or darned, or knitted.

Her father sat in the easy chair, pale and thin and weak. He looked ill,
and it seemed as if he were merely out of his bed, so that her mother
might change the linen, for she was busy pulling off pillow-cases and
putting clean ones on, and turning the chaff-filled tick to make it
easier for his poor bones to lie on.

He lay back in his chair, his eyes half closed, as if tired.

"The wind has surely gane do