ea or shore. One touch of nature makes the whole world kin. They had
never been appealed to in that way before, and the spark of goodness
lying dormant in even the most depraved natures, responded to the
breath of kindly words.

I touched the bell, the great subdividing doors were rolled, and my
assistants quietly proceeded to the work of instruction, confident
that the war was over.

When I had marched my regiment to their cells that night, and retired
to my room, I reflected that every human existence has its moments of
fate, when the apples of the Hesperides hang ready upon the bough,
but, alas! how few are wise enough to pluck them. The decision of
an hour may open to us the gates of the enchanted garden where are
flowers and sunshine, or it may condemn us, Tantalus-like, to reach
evermore after some far-off and unattainable good. I dreamed that the
clock of fate had struck the hour for me, that I had found my mission
on earth, and that henceforth the "Peace be still" of the Master would
calm life's troubled sea.

In reconnoitring the island the next day, I found much to admire.
The great domes of the massive buildings towered aloft above the
encircling walls, like aerial sentinels warning us to lift our
thoughts to the blessings that come from on high. The great ships went
sailing by to lands beyond the sea; in front was a veritable bower of
paradise, apple and peach-trees fruited deep, green lawns, rippling
waters, fair as the garden of the Lord. Every prospect pleases and
naught but man is vile.

The signal was given from the Harlem shore for the institution's boat.
I jumped on board, and the strong arms of the uniformed boys of our
boat's crew propelled us across the river, where two policemen stood
on the pier guarding a girl about eighteen years of age. Quick as a
flash she pushed one of them into the water, his head stuck in the
mud, his legs kicking in the air; then she shrieked with laughter and
ran like a deer up the street. The other policeman and myself
jumped into an express wagon, seized the reins from the astonished,
protesting black driver, plied the whip to his horse and gave chase.

"What for you dune dar?" cried the darky.

"Shut up!" was the only reply, and away we went, Gilpin-like, with the
horse on the run. We headed off the girl, and after a rough-and-tumble
scrimmage threw her into the wagon, kicking, screaming, and scratching
like a wild-cat. We took her by main force to the girls' w