uary air--father and son and
little Kenyon bundled to the chin. They walked over the prairies under
the sunshine and talked together through the short winter afternoon. At
its close they were in the timber where the fallen leaves were beginning
to pack against the tree trunks and in the ravines. The child listened
as the wind played upon its harp, and the rhythm of the rising and
falling tide of harmony set his heart a-flutter, and he squeezed his
father's fingers with delight. A redbird flashing through the gray and
brown picture gave him joy, and when it sang far down the ravine where
the wind organ seemed to be, the child's eyes brimmed and he dropped
behind the elders a few paces to listen and be alone with his ecstasy.
And so in the fading day they walked home. The quail piped for the
child, and the prairie chicken pounded his drum, and in the prairie
grass the slanting sun painted upon the ripples across the distant,
rolling hills many pictures that filled the child's heart so full that
he was still, as one who is awed with a great vision. And it was a great
vision that filled his soul: the sunset with its splendors, the twilight
hovering in the brown woods, the prairie a-quiver with the caresses of
the wind, winter-birds throbbing life and ecstasy into the picture, and
above and around it all a great, warm, father's heart symbolizing the
loving kindness of the infinite to the child's heart.

CHAPTER XVIII

OUR HERO RIDES TO HOUNDS WITH THE PRIMROSE HUNT

Going home from the Adamses that afternoon, John Dexter mused:
"Curious--very curious." Then he added: "Of course this phase will pass.
Probably it is gone now. But I am wondering how fundamental this state
of mind is, if it will not appear again--at some crisis later in life."

"His mother," said Mrs. Dexter, "was a strong, beautiful woman. She
builded deep and wide in that boy. And his father is a wise, earnest,
kindly man, even if he may be impractical. Why shouldn't Grant do all
that he dreams of doing?"

"Yes," returned the minister dryly. "But there is life--there are its
temptations. He is of the emotional type, and the wrong woman could bend
him away from any purpose that he may have now. Then, suppose he does
get past the first gate--the gate of his senses--there's the temptation
to be a fool about his talents if he has any--if this gift of tongues
we've seen to-day should stay with him--he may get the swelled head. And
then," he concluded s