passing." The quiet life in the
homestead went on just as it had done before. Always thoughtful and kind
to others, Elizabeth lived and worked on her lonely farm, ever patient
and uncomplaining. And Hannah too, urged by her mistress's example, was
never idle; early and late she was always to be found at work, washing,
scouring, or cooking, till her cheeks grew rosy from her exertions.

She amused herself by teasing Joseph and, though at heart she was really
very fond of him, whenever he attempted to make love to her, she would
never listen seriously, but always laugh at him and make fun of his
clumsy devotion. This was quite unlike the way a demure Puritan maiden
should conduct herself, and at times Elizabeth was obliged to chide her
housemaid for her light behavior.

Meanwhile John Estaugh had sailed over the sea bearing in his heart a
precious secret. He pondered over it, till at length it was borne in
upon him that his duty might go hand-in-hand with his inclination, and
that even if he accepted this wondrous gift of a true woman's love, he
could also follow in the way he deemed the right one. So he returned
from his journey, and on the first Sabbath Day after his arrival he rose
in the silent assembly and holding Elizabeth's hand, which trembled a
little in his strong grasp, he promised, in the presence of the whole
congregation, to be true and kind and faithful in all things to his
wife. Such were the simple marriage rites of Elizabeth Haddon and John
Estaugh.

Then honest Joseph, who thus far had not fared over well in his wooing,
ventured to urge Hannah the housemaid to join her lot with his and
follow the example of their master and mistress. But although Hannah
still said "Nay," she added: "Thee may make believe and see what comes
of it, Joseph." So I am inclined to think that she did give in after
all.

_The Monk and the Ass_

Once upon a time, some centuries ago, two weary Franciscan monks were
wending their way, in the hot glare of the noonday sun, to their
convent, whose white walls and spires gleamed like a patch of snow on
the hillside some distance away.

The first of these monks was named Brother Anthony. He was a spare and
silent man, much given to fasting and prayer. His monk's habit hung in
loose folds on his thin body, his hair was thin and gray, and he stooped
wearily as he walked along. A simple soul was the monk Anthony,
accustomed only to listen and obey the commands of others.