otionless, her head lowered, and in
such a peculiar clump of bushes and ferns that she was all but
indistinguishable. It was wonderful, the perfection with which her
instinct had led her to conceal herself.

All excitement, I started toward her at once. But Mr. Purdy put his hand
on my arm.

"Wait," he said, "don't frighten her. She has her calf there."

"No!" I exclaimed, for I could see nothing of it.

We went, cautiously, a few steps nearer. She threw up her head and
looked at us so wildly for a moment that I should hardly have known her
for my cow. She was, indeed, for the time being, a wild creature of the
wood. She made a low sound and advanced a step threateningly.

"Steady," said Mr. Purdy, "this is her first calf. Stop a minute and
keep quiet. She'll soon get used to us."

Moving to one side cautiously, we sat down on an old log. The brown
heifer paused, every muscle tense, her eyes literally blazing, We sat
perfectly still. After a minute or two she lowered her head, and with
curious guttural sounds she began to lick her calf, which lay quite
hidden in the bracken.

"She has chosen a perfect spot," I thought to myself, for it was the
wildest bit of forest I had seen anywhere in this neighbourhood. At one
side, not far off, rose a huge gray rock, partly covered on one side
with moss, and round about were oaks and a few ash trees of a poor
scrubby sort (else they would long ago have been cut out). The earth
underneath was soft and springy with leaf mould.--

Mr. Purdy was one to whom silence was painful; he fidgeted about,
evidently bursting with talk, and yet feeling compelled to follow his
own injunction of silence. Presently he reached into his capacious
pocket and handed me a little paper-covered booklet. I took it, curious,
and read the title:

"Is There a Hell?"

It struck me humorously. In the country we are always--at least some of
us are--more or less in a religious ferment, The city may distract
itself to the point where faith is unnecessary; but in the country we
must, perforce, have something to believe in. And we talk about it, too!
I read the title aloud, but in a low voice:

"Is There a Hell?" Then I asked: "Do you really want to know?"

"The argument is all there," he replied.

"Well," I said, "I can tell you off-hand, out of my own experience, that
there certainly is a hell----"

He turned toward me with evident astonishment, but I proceeded with
tranquillity:

"Yes, sir, the