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PHILADELPHIA : AMERICAN BAPTIST PUBLICATION SOCIETY, 1420 Chestnut Street I Kntorod, accordliiK to Act of ConRrcHa, In llui yenr IN8U, hy the AJfKUICAN HAPTIST PIIHLICATION HOCIKTY, In llie Offlce of Iho Ulirarian of ('oiiKrcHs, at WaslilnKtpn. /^.-3;■>-' ' i n, .08 107 110 141 149 158 176 186 206 210 224 282 287 «'•■!'. ,.'. i WALTER HARLEY'S CONQUEST. CHAPTER i; WALTEH AND UNA. IT was a cold, cheerless afternoon in the latter part of December, and the cosy fireside seemed far more in- viting than any out-door i)leasiire8. So at least Walter Harley seemed to think, m drawing up a largo arm chair to the library fire ho threw himself in it, and was soon deeply absorbetl in a new story book — a Christmas gift. The silvery-toned bell of the little timepiece on the mantel chimed out the hour of three. Quickly its hands slipped round, and four rang out through the room. Still Walter read on. Then dusky shadows began to gather in the corners of the room, and the firelight, flashing fitfully, threw a ruddy glow over the crimson carpet, lit up the tall, dark bookcases, with their rows of well-bound books, gleamed on bust and statuette, and played hide-and-seek about the curious carving of the arm chairs. But Walter 6 fe i--e, and a fine steel enj,'raving of one of Landseer's pietnres. On a littlo table lay an uncut nuvgazine, a daily text book, and his Bible. As Walter glanced around the room his eye fell on the latter, and with shame he remembered that of late it had been too much neglected. "I can never be a good soldier of Jesus Christ if I do not read my.Captain's orders," he said to himself. " I will try, after this, to find time to read a few verses every day." So he opened the Bible at tlio Epistle to the Romans. The little blue marker showed the i)lttce where he had left off some days before. It lay at the fifteenth chapter, and the words came with new power to Walter : " We then that are strong ought to bear the infirmities of the weak, and not to please ourselves ... for even Christ pleased not himself." Walter's mother had always taught him that the best way to study the Bible was to read the references to any passage; so he read in the Epistle to the Galatians: lilting book- wiich a» liDyH fow workH of ).)ut tho wiillri •, VViiltor had loro wore two riiving of ono loy nil ui:cut is eye fell on 1 that of Into 1 never be a my.t'nptnin's Dr this, to find > the Romans, vhcre he hnd >enth chapter, Valter: "We rniities of the r even Christ 1 that the l)e8t jrences to any le Galntinns : I WAI/rKR HAnLRV'ft OOKQURHT. 19 "Bear ye ono another's burdens, nnd mo fulfil the law of Christ"; and in 1 Tho«sal«»niuns,"Kui.p(»rt the weak"; and in the Acts, "S(» labouring, ye ought to sui.port the weak." For a ftw nionienUt ho knelt in prayer, nxking tlio aid of tho Holy Bpirit to cafry out in his life tiio words he had just been reading, and then wont down witli a hai)py heart to join the family in tho breakfast room. As Walter was now enjoying Christmas holidays, ho had considerable time to himself; so, atler breakfast, he went up to what he called his workshop. This was a room in the attic, where ho kept tools, pnint, etc., and where he exercised his ingenuity in making a few things nnd spoiling a good many more. In one part of tho room he had his gymnasium, and before sitting down to work ho went through several exercises. He had just fairly settled down, and was whittling and planing at a great rate, when his sister Carrie came in, and, after hovering about in an uncertain way for a while, said : " Walter, I wish you would come out skating with me by-and-by ; the ice is lovely on the pond." Carrie hnd her first pair of skates given to her at Christmas, and was beginning to learn to skate on a small sheet of ice near the house ; but she was ambitious to try on some larger piece. 20 WALTER HA'tLEY's CONQUEST. " I can stand on my skates now," she added, encour- agingly. Walter smiled. To go out skating; with a child who was only just learning was rather dull work ; but he remembered the text of the morning, "Even Christ pleased not himself," and said, cheerily : "All right, Carrk; I will go with you at eleven o'clock." By eleven o'clock Carrie was all ready, and was soon skipping merrily along by the side of her brother. It was a beautiful, bright morning — not too cold for enjoy- ment. To reach the pond they went across some open fields, and down the hill to a low, swampy tract of ground, through which ran a small stream. The . Lream overflowed its banks in spring and autumn, forriing a miniature lake, which was now a wide expanse of ice. As it was perfectly safe, it was a favcite resort for youthful skaters who were not allowed by their parents to go on the river. Walter soon had Carrie's skates on, after which fol- lowed many awkward attempts on her part to skate, with some tumbles. But with Walter's strong hand to hold her up, she did pretty well, and really began to improve. Of course, there was no fun in all this for Walter, and by-and-by he began to weary of it. m, WALTKR HARLEVa COIQUEST. 21 , encour- liild who ; but he 1 Christ t eleven was soon ther. It or enjoy- )me open tract of le . Lream )rrang a se of ice. esort for r parents hich fol- iate, with [ to hold improve, liter, and " Don't you feel tired now, Carrie ? " he said. " Oh, I am not a bit tired," said the little damsel, innocently. " Still, it does not do to stay out too long at first, you know, till you get accustomed to it," continued Walter, with an air of superior wisdom. " We have not been out long, Wally, and I am getting on so nicely now." " Well, I will take a turn to the end of the pond, and you try and go alone for a little while; you will learn more that way," said Walter, wheeling around on one foot, and making curves and flourishes which Carrie thought simply wonderful as she stood there balancing herself on her skates, afraid to move for fear she would fall. " Don't be long," called Carrie. But by this time Walter was almost out of hearing. Away he glided to the other end of the pond and up the stream for a little distance. When he returned he found that three or four of Carrie's little girl friends had come on the ice, and were helping her along; so he started off to enjoy himself. He had not gone very far, before he overtook a little boy who seemed to be having trouble with his skates. " What is the matter ? " asked Walter. " Can't you make your skates stay on ? " W: 22 WALTER HARLEY's CONQUEST. " They are loose, and I haven't any wrench," replied the little fellow. " I have one," returned Walter, " and I will soon make them all right." It was some time, however, before he could make them fit. But the little chap was so pleased that Walter felt rewarded for his trouble, though he had only time him- self for one more skate around the pond before dinner time. In the afternoon Walter started off for a skate on the river. He had not gone far before he heard a calling and hallooing, and looking back saw Arthur, Mary, Adeline, and Stanley Harrington coming along the.road after him, all bent on the same errand as himself. The Harringtons lived about a quarter of a mile from Elmwood, and were very intimate friends of the Har- leys. Judge Harrington had been very successful in his chosen profession — that of the law — and had risen step by step until he had reached his present position. He had a large family of sons and daughters growing up around him, and a pleasauter circle it would be hard to find. We will glance at the four who now joined Walter. Arthur was twelve, but being small of his age looked much younger than Walter. Having been delicate in 5r-f!" Jf WALTER HARLEY'S CONQUEST. 23 " replied 3on make ake them '"alter felt tiiine him- re dinner ite on the a calling ir, Mary, the.road If. mile from the Har- ful in hia risen step tion. He owing up e hard to I Walter, ge looked elicate ia early childhood, he was not so advanced in many respects as most boys of his age; but he was a bright, pleasant little fellow, with very gentle manners. I 'ary, a healthy, blooming girl of fourteen, with unbounded vitality and energy, made quite a contrast to her brother. She entered with great spirit into all kinds of out-door amusements, and excelled in them all. Her lively con- versation, temi>ered as it was with good common sense, made her a very agreeable companion. Walter liked her, and a pleasant boy and girl friendship existed between them. Adeline was eighteen, and consequently quite a young lady. Walter thought her very pretty, and most people would agree with him. She ahvay dressed well and in good taste, and withal had a style about her which made her look well in almost anything she chose to put on. Walter was rather in awe of her, as she was quite witty and somewhat sarcastic. He often felt, too, inclined to resent her patronizing manner toward him, whom she classed among the younger ones. Stanley was a tall, slender young man of twenty, pale- faced and dark-haired. He was attending college, and was home now for his holidays. It was generally under- stood that he intended to follow his father's profession. Some thought him wanting in energy, but they little 24 WALTER barley's CONQUEST. dreamed of the force of character hidden beneath a quiet exterior. Stanley waa as proud of his sister Ade- line as she was fond of him, and they were constantly together when he waa at home. The party went merrily on. Not finding very good skating near the town, they crossed the river and skated up toward a tributary stream which waa now one sheet of smooth, clear ice. The elder ones met some friends, and stopped on the way; so the others found themselves far ahead. Walter and Mary, who had skated fast, were glad to throw themselves down on the ice and rest. The sun was setting, and the western sky waa bright with golden light, while a faint, rose'colored mist hung upon the eastern horizon. All was perfect stillness, and something of that quiet rested on the two young friends ; and for a while neither of them spoke. Mary first broke the silence. "What a perfect day it isl Do you know on days like this, when everything in nature around one is so 'beautiful, I feel such a longing come over me to be of some use in the world— to so fill my life with noble deeds that it would be worth living. I would like so much to be a doctor, and I will some day," she added, with suddei. nergy and mth almost a defiant air. " You I " said Walter, in open-eyed amazement. I eneath a iter Ade- >nstantly iry good d skated me Hheet : friends, emselves 'ast, were St. IS bright ist bung acss, and friends ; •st broke on days »ne is so to be of ;h noble like so 3 added, WALTER IIAULEY's CONQUEST. 20 I i ' " Yes, why not ? I do not see nuythiug unwomanly in it, and one could do good that way. I know they will laugh at me at home, but that shall not hinder nie." And she pressed her lips together firmly. " Molly, I would never have thought of you as wuutint^ to be a doctor." " I suppose you think, as every one else does, that I am only a fun-loving girl, with no thought of doing serious work in the world ; but I am in earnest." And there were tears in her brown eyes. " I am sure you are ; but you do not know what hard work it is, both in the study and the practice." " Yes ; but it is the ambition of my life ; it is the work I want to do so much, and that will make it easier ; and I am strong and healthy. But I do not know how I ever came to say all this. You will not tell any one just now. Walter, will you?" " I will keep your secret," said Walter ; " and I, fot one, wish you well." " Thank you," replied Mary. She had no time to say more, as just then the rest of ♦he party appeared in view. "Here you are, I declare, having a flirtation," said Adeline ; " we thought you were lost. Isn't this ice per- fection?" 26 WALTER HARLEY'S CONQUEST. " Come, A.da," said Stanley, " it is time we were goiug Lome." " You provoking creature, that is wliat you always say when I am enjoying myself, and do not want to leave." " It is your own fault," returned her brother ; " we would have been here long ago, if you had not wasted time talking to the Bentleys." " Wasted time, indeed I " replied Ada, " when I had not seen them for so long, and had so many important things to say. You seemed to enjoy skating with Fannie verv well, I thought." " Oh, I had to fill up the time somehow," said Stanley. " Quite to your satisfaction, though, I fancy," returned Ada. " Come, Molly, we ought to be on our way home." " Let us all join hands and skate down to the mouth of the stream together," proposed Stanley. Soon all five were gliding rapidly over the smooth ice. When they reached the other side of the river, Walter left the party, as he had n. message to deliver for his father, which took him a dififerent way. Climbing the steep bank, he passed close by the back yard of a little cottage. An old woman was tottering across the yard with an arm full of wood. " How are you Aunt Jane ? " called Walter. Nurse Brown, or, as she was commonly called. Aunt "te.. 3re goiug ways say leave." er; 'we >t wasted n I had nportant 1 Fannie Stanley, returned r home." e mouth ooth ice. , Walter for hia )ing the a little he yard d, Aunt WALTER HARLEY's CONQUEST. 27 Jane, had been Mrs. Harlcy's nurse iu childhood, and was a fiivorite with the young Harleys. The old woman turned and looked for a moment at the boyish speaker, whom she could only dimly see in the dusk. " Don't you know me? " said Walter. " Oh, Master Walter, is that you ? I couldn't think who it was at first, you are growing so tall. Come in and sit down. I have had the rheumatism, and I am rather stiff these days," she continued ; " but it might be worse with me than it is."' " You are not alone, are you ? " said Walter. " No ; a niece of mine stays with me. She goes out all day sewing; but she is company for me in the evening." " You ought not to be carrying in wood," said Walter. " The neighbors' boys often come in and do little chorea for me ; but I guess they are off playing to-day." " I'll bring some wood in." And before she could say a word, Walter was off to the wood shed. He soon had her wood box piled full, answering her inquiries about the different members of the family the while. Then he went to work splitting kindlings, paying no attention to Aunt Jane's remonstrances. "There, now you will soon have a good fire," he _^''" *■ 28 WALTER HARLEY'S COXQUEST. said, slipping in- some of the dry kindlings between the l)iece8 of dam]) wood. " You are your mother's own boy," said ^Vunt Jano, admiringly; "she was always helping somebody." " I wish to be like her," replied Walter. And without waiting to hear the parting blessings showered on him by the old nurse, he ran off on the way toward home. He must hiive left sunshine behind him ; for somehow things looked very bright to Aunt Jane as she went back into her little room. As for Walter, he reached home quite in the niooc! to romp with the little ones till the tea bell rang. That evening, passing through the kitchen, he found Hannah, the cook, over a closely-written sheet. " A letter from your sweetheart, Hannah ? " said Wal- ter, mischievously. "Sweetheart! No," returned Hannah, scornfully. " I wouldn't be bothered with the likes of them. It is from my brother Jim, -nd see the lovely Christmas card he sent me, and it only got here this morning." Here she carefully drew out a really handsome card to show to Walter. Then, with some pride, she took from an en- velope a New Year's card. " I want to send this to him," she said, "and I'd like to send a few lines to tell him I am well j but, dear me, I couldn't write a letter fit to be WALTER HARI.EY's CONtilTEsT. 29 tw^n the int Juno, r." d without n him by line. He )W things back into <}to mooi be found iid Wal- ornfully. 11. It is rias card ' Here show to an en- to him," I him I fit to be seen to save my life. Jim is such un iligant writer," she added, looking admiringly at the numerous strokes and flourishes jti the sheet before her. Walter inwardly smiled at the idea of applying the term elegant to Jim's cramped, irregular handwriting. " Shall I write it for you ? " ho said. " Indeed, and I would be greatly obliged, if it's no put out to yourself" " Not at all," returned Walter. He went into the library for pen and ink, and his eye fell on the new magazine lying temptingly open on the table ; but it was with no regret that he closed it, and returned to patiently put on paper all Hannah's messages. He was a good writer; and, when the letter was finished, regarded it with pardonable pride, while Hannah was simply delighted. When he went back to the library, he found his mother sitting alone by the fire ; and glad to have mother all to himself, he threw himself down on the hearth rug, and recounted the day's doings. " I am glad my boy has been trying to help others to- day," said Mrs. Harley, when he had finished. " Oh, but mother, they were such little things. They st>em hardly worth naming." " But, my dear boy," said Mrs. Harley, " do not these little things, as you call them, make up life ? I am sure, ■ l |, B « ,. lll|ii u »i n i |jn. ii i 80 WALTKK HARLKY's CONQUEST. I, for one, would be discournged, if I thought they were of no imjwrtance ; for my days are hvrgoly niado up of jimt such opportunities for doing good. You renieniher the familiar old hymn yon used to sing when a child : " ' Little dcHHlH of klnilncsg, Little words of lovo, < Make our earth an Eden, Like to heaven above ' I " " But do you not think it would be nice to do some great thing, mamma? " " Yes, if God gives us some great thing to do, but not otherwise. It is best to do just the work that God places before us. We are simply called to be faithful, and/ he that is faithful over a few things ' will one day be made ' ruler over many things.' Yet, Walter, when you think of it, it is no little thing, but a very solemn resjwnsibility and privilege, to show forth Christ in all the relations of life." " How can we do that, mother?" said Walter. ■" You know God reveals himself to us through earthly relationships. He calls himself our Father in heaven, that we who know what 'father' means may better understand the love and care of God toward us. Then Christ is spoken of as our Elder Brother. Now you are an elder brother ; and if day by day you try to be a • s^sjgsftjjatag ill MMm\ ii nw-B i wM»irg»' a' hey were d plaeca and ' he be made )u think nsibility iiona of earthly heaven, r better Then you are to be a WALTER HAIU.KY's CONQUFKI'. 31 loving, kind, helpful brother to your little nlHicrH, then when they hear Chrint 8])()ken uf im an Elder Drothur, they will be drawn to him, and, renKtmluMin^r all you have been to them, they will be helped to undcrrland the love and tenderneHH of Jesus." " Oh, mother, I never thought of it in that li;,dit before. I am afraid I can never do it; I fail so often in being what I should be." " ' I can do all things through Christ, wliicii strength- eneth me,' " replied his mother, gently. " llis ' grace is sufficient.' You have done it to-day, in your kindness to your little sister. Little things make a deep impression in little hearts, and are often carried as a life-long remem- brance, influencing the acts of the full-grown man or woman." " It makes life seem very solemn," said Walter, as ho kissed his mother good-night. " Yes, and very happy too, dear," she answered. And her words rang in Walter's ears till they mingled with his dreams, and seemed to drift away and blend in " a Happy New Year." CHAPTER III. A DAY AT UNOLK ZKBEDEE'h. *' llfELL, mother," said Mr. Hurley, next morning » ' ftt break tost, "I suppose you are all ready for an early Htart to Uncle Zebedee's." " You would not wish to set off before eleven o'clock, would you? Then we would reach there soon after twelve ; that would be about the time they would expect us, would it not ? " " If we were to come when they expected us, wo would bo on our way now," replied Mr. Ilarley ; " for when country folks ask one to spend the day, they mean the day, and not half of it, as town people do. But as it is winte. time, and they will not be up so very early, I presume it will do to start punctually at eleven." " And we are to go to Rev. Mr. Upham's donation party in the evening, are we ? " said his wife. " That is the idea," returned Mr. Harley. " I think Uncle Zcbedeo wanted to make sure of us by inviting us to his place to dinner. When he was in the office some days ago, he mentioned that the people thought of giving their minister a donation party on New Year's evening, 82 mm^ .^^ WAI-TKU HAHLKV'h CONQUKJST. 33 '. morniii)^ ready for sn o'clock, oon after lid expect wo would for when mean the ut na it ia y early, I »> donation "I think iviting us ffice some of giving evening. BO I drew out my poukcthook, and was about to hand him something, ' Oii, no,' ho Httid, * conic and hriiig it yoursi'lf ; wo want your preHcnco, as well iw your money. Come, and ho ready to say a few wordn.' " r told him that we were getting to ho such stay-at- home old people, that I didn't believe wo could take such an excursion. In fact, wo enjoyed uur own fireside in the evening. " ' Come now,' he said, ' you have a cosy home ; but you needn't be so fond o'* it as all that, and you arc not so old but that you could drive a few miles on a winter night ; and then you know we like to see a few friends from the town.' " So I went so far as to day that, if the weather was favoralde, we would try and be there. Not long after, uncle came asking us to spend the day with tjiem." " I am so glad. I think it will be si)lcudid," said Walter. " It will quite remind us of old times, Alfred," said Mrs. Harley, smiling. "Yes," he replied. "Do you remember, Alice, the time when a sled load of us young people drove up to Elder Smith's donation ? " " I should think so ; that was the time -vben we were upset in a snowdrift on our way home." c 34 WALTER HARLEY's CONQUEST. " Oh, what fun that must have been 1 " exclaimed Walter. " I did not mind it as much then as I would now," said his mother. "I remember," said Mr. Harley, '• that I was so anxious for fear you might have been hurt, Alice." " And I never knew that you cared anything about me, then," returned his wife. " Ah, Walter ! " said his father, with a merry twinkle in his eye, " those were the good old days." " I presume there are just as good ones yet to come, sir," returned Walter. " No doubt," said his mother, " but it is the especial privilege of old people to have lived in days better, in their estimation, than any their descendants will see." " Papa," said Carrie, timidly, " you don't think we will be upset to-day, do you ?" " Oh, no, dear ; not unless our good old horse should run away, which is not at all likely. Thetime mamma was telling about was later in the season, when there was a great deal of snow, and in one place the road slanted so that the sled swung very much to one side, and Avent BO far over that we were all neatly turned out into tiie snow." As the whole fiimily had been invited, Mrs. Harley xclaimcd Id now," ) anxioua ig about twinkle to come, especial )etter, in see." : we will 3 should mamma bere was slanted nd went into the Harlejr WALTER harley's cokquest. 35 had decided to take both Carrie and Bertha ; but she thought it best to leave the baby home with Ann. Eleven o'clock found all the party comfortably seated in the fiamily sleigh ; and " Frisk " was soon speeding along the road toward Uncle Zebedee's. Zebedee Brown was Mr. Harley's uncle, and was the owner of a large farm, about twelve miles from Kuowlton, The young Harleys always looked forward to spending a day there In summer; and Walter had sometimes stayed there for a week or more. Aunt Susan waa a most hospitable soul, and could never do enough for her nephew's children. About noon they came in sight of the old farmhouse. It stood some distance back from the road, near the river bank. On one side of it were two or three tall elms, which afforded a delightful shade in summer. Beyond these, in a little hollow, grew some fii-s, whoso dark green now made a pleasant contrast to the white- ness of the winter landscape. The good people of the house saw' them coming, and were at the door to meet them with many warm greetings. " Here you all are, safe and sound," said Uncle Zebe- dee. "Will," turning to a tall young man behind him, "you just see to the horse. Come right in, all of you. We were looking for you before." ■V.i-'- V* •^Mi-',(V:'-v-." »"■- -" 36 WALTER HARLEY's COXQUEfeT. "I am going with Will, uncle," said Walter, who felt quite at home, and was anxious to see some of his favor- ites among tho stock. " Well, Rover, old fellow, how are you ? " as a large, shaggy dog leaped up on him, and almost threw him down. " You remember me, do you?" While Will was unharnessing the horse, Walter was looking about for some of his pets. "Where is that bantam you used to have, Will ? " " A weasel killed her ; mother was awful sorry. We caught the old weasel afterward — not before it nad taken some fine chickens, tiiough." So they went around, till Walter had seen all that he wanted to see out of doors. Will then showed him into the house by the front way. " Come in, Walter," said his uncle, calling from the parlor. It must be confessed the best room had but little attraction for Walter. It looked exactly as it had ever since he could remember. The carpet was as bright and fresh as when new. The chairs all stood in the same places. The same books were arranged exactly in the same way on the centre table; the same pictures and ornaments stood on the high mantel; and, although there was a good fire in the grate, the room had the chilly air of one which is seldom used. So Walter was ■: , who felt his favor- 7, how are him, and do you?" alter was i-e is that Try. Wo nad taken [1 that he him into from the but little had ever iright and the same ly in the tures and altliough I had the Salter was WALTER HAKLEYS CONQUEST. 37 glad to make his escape cut into the family sitting room, where today the dinner table was set, and from thence into the large, old-fashioned kitchen, with ita striiigs of dried apples and ears of corn hanging from the rafters. In one corner stood a spinning wheel, and piled on a broad shelf near lay hanks of yarn, spun by nimble fingers. , Soon dinner was announced, and all were ready to do ample justice to Aunt Susan's good cooking. There waa quite a party around the table. There were the two "boys" at home— Will and George, the former over twenty, the latter thirty ; and to-day tliey had also with them a married son, with his wife and family. There were only sons now in the family. Once a daugliter had brightened their home; but just as she was developing into womanhood she was called away to the home on high. It was years since then.; but when Aunt Susan begins to talk about Esther, and brings out the faded daguerreotype that recalls her darling, her tears fall fast. It was a great blow to that mother's heart ; but sorrow made her very tender and sympathefic. But Aunt Susan was very happy now, surrounded by such a gathering; she loaded tlie plates of her guests with good things, and when all were abundantly satisfied, wondered that they could eat no .jiore. 89 WALTER HABLEY's CONQUEST. The afternoon passed quickly and pleasantly away. The younger members of the party spent the time in games, and made the house ring with their merry voices. They even induced Uncle Zebedee to play " Blind Man's Buff" with tliem. About seven o'clock the older members of the family were all in a bustle of preparation, making ready to go to the parsonage. The farm sleigh was brought out, and plenty of straw thrown in the bottom to sit upon; and then various mysterious parcels were stowed away, with various injunctions to be careful. Walter preferred to go in the farm sleigh witli his cousins — it was far more fun ; and soon they were slip- ping and bumping along over the roads, which, owing to the fact that there had not been any heavy fall of snow, were rather rough. It was a cloudy night, and not very cold. They were soon at the parsonage, which was only a mile distant, where already several sleighs were drawn up in the yard. The house was lighted up ; and, as they drew near the door, they could hear tlie hum of many voices. Then the door was opened, and they were all ushered in, and the mysterious parcels were passed out into a back room. The house was very small, and v/ns already well filled. The elderly ladies occupied the best room, while the tly away. e time in ry voices, lud Man's he family lady to go t our, and pon ; and way, with 1 with his were slip- , owing to I of snow, 1 not very I was only ere drawn d, as they [ of many • were all tassed out veil filled, while the I i WALTER HARLEY's CONQUEST. 39 younger ones were to be found in the sitting room. Most of the young men, as well as many of the older ones, were standing about in the hall. Tiie older ones gath- ered about the stove, talking on general matters; the younger ones lingered around the doorways which led into the rooms, somewhat too bashful to enter just yet, and encounter the glances of so many blooming girls and matrons. A glimpse into the little dining room would have yevealed a bewilderi""; array of baskets and parcels, among which three or four matronly women were hov- ering about, unpacking and arranging, and making preparations for the supper. As for the minister and his wife, they were in and out everywhere, and anxious for the enjoyment of all. After about half an hour there was a call to order, and one of the deacons stepped forward and read a short address, at the close of which he presented to the pastor, in the name of those present, a purse of money. This was not all the good man received, however, for there was a barrel of flour, and there were sacks of potatoes, and poultry and butter and cheese ; there were socks and stock- ings for all the family, knit by the farmers' good wives. Some of the young girls had brought fancy work, and the young men nicknacks and ornaments for the house. »i ui t.u ' i",iBi)j-j,.'.-...,j:i w m i • I If .ji. |i . 'ry?y»«wCT!'»jr' 40 WALTER HARLEY's OONQUE.ST. And for all .this the good pastor thanked them most warmly, for he knew they were the gifts of kind hearts ; for this was all in addition to his salary, which, though not large, was regularly paid. Some Liore speeches were made, and many kind, encouraging words spoken, which gladdened the min- ister's heart as much as did the gifts. After this every one became very sociable. The bashful )'0ung men were soon enjoying themselves among the girls, and there was a general chatter of voices on every side. Then came the call to supj)er, and a gi-and attack was made on the cold turkey and ham and biscuits and coffee and frosted cake and pies, of which there seemed to be no end. "^ ^ Mr. and Mrs. Harley and Walter left at eleven o'clock, as they had a long v "ve before them. They stopped at Uncle Zebedee's for Bertha and Carrie ; and, after tney were tucked safely in the sleigh, the whole party started for home, which they reached in due time, having thor- oughly enjoyed their New Year's jaunt. „ V i 4 mm W"^ -k em moat I hearts; 1, though ly kind, the mitt- e. The emselves latter of ) supi)er, •key and ind pie?, ■• ♦• 1 o'clock, opped at fter tney y started ing thor- i i CHAPTER IV. MB. HARBISON "S TALK WITH III8 BOYS. IT was the first Sunday in the new year — a bright, beautiful day. The sky was clfear and cloudless ; the earth pure and white in its mantle of newly-fallen snow. Did some, as they looked forth on the fair scene, think of the precious words, "Though thy sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow"? Did some desire to be clothed in the righteousness of Cln-ist, of which that pure, spotless snow was but a faint emblem? Doubtless, some did; but to others, perhaps to many, it was only a pleasant winter morning — nothing more. . It was not without serious thoughts that Walter went that morning to church; and so it was that some words in the sermon seemed just spoken for him. "The Now Year," said Mr. Somers, "is like a blank book opened before us, on whoso fair white pages each of us may inscribe a record. Some may say, ' There is nothing in my life worth recording ; it is only a round of commonplace duties.' But if," continued the min- ibcer, " each commonplace, homely duty be done in Christ's name ; if the petty trials and burdens and • , 41 '"^Wi^A ' fa'i *^ !^! <^ It WALTER IIAULKY's CONQUEST. cares of every day be borne for his sake, tlint record will be one on which the Lord will smile approval. It is doing and bearing all for Jesus' sake which ennobles life." Walter went to dine with Uncle Morton. lie always took dinner there' on Sunday, so as to be in good time for Sunday-school. He liked his teacher ve y much, and did not care to miss a Sunday. Mr. Harrison, the principal of the academy which AValter attended, was teacher of his class in Sunday- school. He wius an earnest, devoted Christian, a tal- ented man, and an .excellent teacher. He had a largo class of boys, many of whom were also his pupils in the academy. He had gained a strong hold oil his scholars' affections: they felt that he had a deep, personal interest in each one of them ; that it really made a difference to him whether they tried to live right Of not ; that he was anxious that each one should give his heart to Jesus. They knew too that he gave them his best thoughts — one nught say his very self. No thought that had helped him was withheld from them. Was it any wonder then that " his boys," as he called them, esteemed and loved him ? The room in which the Sunday-school was held waa bright and cheerful. Texts of Scripture neatly framed, , it record •oval. It ennobles [e always Tood time •y much, iiy which Sunday- m, a tal- l1 a large ])upils in i oti hia a deep, it really \ to live ne should he gave ?ery self. leld from rs," as he held waa y framed, I WALTEH IIAllI-EY S CONQUI>iT. m and pictures illustrating the kssons hung upon the walls. Smaller clivss rooms opened out of iC, one of which was occupied by Mr. Harrison's class during the lesson hour. To-day as they gathered around their teacher there was an interchange of New Year's greetings. • " I trust it will be a hap]iy year for each one of us," said Mr. Harrison. "It will be if we use each day aright. I suppose you have all been resolving to do better this year than last" " Yes, sir," came from some. "Wo do not seem to do any better," said Charlie Somers, rather dolefully. " The progress we make in a year must depend on tho progress we make each day, Ciiarlie." said Mr. Harrison. " We are too apt to despise the ' to-days,' and rea^-h after the 'to-morrows'; and they in turn, as soon as they be- come 'to-days,' are treated no better than their prede- cessors. What I mean is simply this: we have faults, besetting sins ; wo. have a vague hojKi that some day in the future we will gain the victory over them. Are we making any effort to overcome to-day? If not, then our hope is a delusion. Evil habits grow, sinful tendencies strengthen, and each day only makes it more difficult to break the bands that fetter and hold us. I am sure each one of you who thinks at all about the matter wishes to 44 WALTER IIAULKYH CONQUMT. liuild up a true, good, noble character. If so, you must begin now. Step by step wo must climb upward; and if wo do not take the first step to-day, it is very unlikely wo will to-morrow. As Longfellow says : " ' The h«i;rlitR by fjroat iiumi rciichcil mill kept Wore not nttalnod by sudden fliglit, But they, while tlielr coiiipaiiioiiB slept. Were toiling upward In the nlRht. •' ' All common thinftB, each day's events. That with the hour heifin and end, Our pleasure and our dlseonteiils, Are rounds by which we may ascend.' " " But," said Ned Brookes, " we have all our own dispositions, and we cannot alter them." "More than we think, Ned," replied Mr. Harrison. " For instance, here is a miser ; he became one by yiehl- ing to his propensity for hoarding. He might have be- come a generous man had he habitually resisted that propensity. You have met perhaps unaniiable, irritable, disagreeal)le men ; yet perhaps some one will tell you those very men were once pleu.sant boys, just such as you are. But they had faults; they did not resist them, and they have gradually become what tiiey are. You see a man whom you admire ; he, too, had faults, but he strove against them, and day by Jay he is becoming better and more Christlike. But some of you, I fear, ^, ' ■^^ ' ^WS A J ' -IMN' " you must iinl; and unlikely ;)ur own larrlson. l)y yield- liave be- ted that irritable, tell you such as ist them, e. You ults, but ecoming ;, I fear, WAT.TER IIARI.KYS COXQCKST. 4ft have never taken the first step toward forming a truly noble cluiracter. You have not given your hearts to Jesus. God calls in you: 'My son, give mo thine heart.' 'To-day if ye will iiear his voice harden not your heart.' If you refuse to listen to (he call to-day, what hope have you that you will obey it to-morrow? Aye, more, you may never sec to-morrow. Then use to-day as God would have you use it; and if you faith- fully sow good seed in the 'to-days,' you will reap a glorious harvest in the ' to-morrows.' " ' As the boys filed out into the large room, at the close of the lesson, Mr. Harrison looked after them sadly. How many would act on his words ? Some, he feared, would go away as careless as they came. The serious, thoughtful faces of others siiowed that they were im- pressed. Would those impressions prove lasting? He hoped BO. There were some, however, he felt sure, who "having received the word into honest and good hearts would bring forth fruit with patience." Of these last Walter was one. He saw plainly now how often he had let the days drift by without seeking to make any advancement in Christian living, and all the time had hoped tha; at some time, in some way, he would be what he wished to be. He thought of his mother, so unselfish, so patient ; of his father, so self-controlled, that ' 4 ' J!i"" i i i! w ;' j ; j » 4i WALTKIl ItAIlLEY'tS COXQURST. Wnlter scarcely roiilizcd tliat lio inherited \m (juick tern per from liini ; nnd lie woiuiercd if they hiul iittained to tiiis tiireiigh patient endeavor. To Walter it Heenicd tho iiioHt natural thiny tiiat they HJioiiid be what they were, nnd he had nlways looked upon it iw a nuitter of courac. Ho resolved to iwk his mother about it some time. The opjwrtunity came that evening. Mrs. liarley stayed at home with tho children on Sun- day evenings, for thoy missed her sadly when she went out, and sho felt that in those quiet Sabbath evening hours she could sow good seed in little hearts; sho loved to show them Bible pictures and tell them Bible stories, nnd tried to lead these lambs of tho home fold to Jesus. To-night Walter stayed at home too ; and when tho younger ones had said good-night, ho told his motiier what Mr. Harrison had said, and then added : " But, mother, does it not come natural to you to be always thinking of others? " His mother smiled. " IMy dear boy, if you knew me as well as I know my- self, you would never ask such a question. If I am in your eyes unselfish, it is not that I am by nature so. I find that it requires daily eflTort to ovorcomo my selfisii tendencies, and it is only by watchfulness and prayer that I can gain the victory." lick tern- :iuiu!(l to Rinc(i tlio ley were, f cuurBO. Qo. The oil Sun- slic went evening ilic loved c stories, I) Jeiius. riicii the I niotiier 3u to be now my- I am in re 80. I ly selfinli I prayer WAI.TKU HAUIJ;y'.S CONtJIKST. 47 " And fiithor too? " said Walter. " Yofl ; (uid fiitiier too has hid Htrii<,'f,'lc3 ; for none of us 'have attained, neither are already perfect.'" " Mother, I am going to try to ovtd-conie my faults " " I am 80 glad, dear," said hia mother ; " and, Walter, you muHt not forget to ask the Saviour to help you." "1 will, mother." And the boy fondly kisHcd her good-night. Ah I was not that mother beginning to reap after years of fuitlit 1 sowing? WMmi>;ji ; is 'i,',vi > CHAPTER V. SCHOOL DAYS. MONDAY came, and with it the return of school days. Scliool began at half-past nine, and Walter was early that morning. The town lock was just striking nine when he mounted the broad stone steps leading to the academy. Just before him was a little lad, who was evidently a uew scholar. He carried a scliool bag well filled with books, and stood there in the large hall, look- ing doubtfully about him, ao though he did not know which room to enter. " Which ia Mr. Harrison's room? " he asked, as Walter entered. " In this way." And Walter threw open a door, and they both entered a large, pleasant schoolroom. " Tiiere is Mr. Harrison sitting at his desk," said Walter. The new boy went up and handed in his permit, and Mr. Harrison had soon entered his name on the register. " You may take this seat," he said, pointing put one not fiir from where Walter was arranging his books. "Walter Harley, this is Bennie Harris. You must make him feel at home," he added ; " he will be in the 48 ihool days, /^altcr was 5t striking Icrading to i, who was rl bag well hall, look- not know as Walter , door, and 1. " There ter. )errait, and he register. ng put one books. You must 1 be in the Walter Harley'i Conquest. ^^^^^ ^^ '""" mS^ WALTER HARLEY'8 CONQUEST, # same class with you. You can show him where to hang hia coat and cap."' While Bennie hung up overcoat and cap, Walter leaned back against the window, and silently surveyed the new comer. Bennie was thirteen, but small for his age, and slightly built. Dark brown hair fell in waves over a l)road forehead ; his eyes were very dark blue, and had a pentive look just now, as indeed they always had when he was quiet ; but, aa Walter afterward found, they could be brimful of fun and mischief at times. Almost a girlish look rested on the delicately-formed features. He was very neatly dressed ; but Walter instinctively guessed that the suit he had on was the best one he had, and that some one had taken great pains to make him look as well as possible on this his first day at a new school. Walter suddenly recollected that he ought to make himself agreeable to the new scholar ; so, when they ; «- turned to the schoolroom, he sat down by him, and soon learned that his father was dead, and that his mother had lately come to live in Knowlton. " I am the eldest, and must get through my schooling as soon as I can, so as to be ready to go to work. That is r/hy Mr. Harrison put me into this class. I am away behind you all, but I'll soon work up to you." imums&i'^ ^ ^' ^ ■ t — ll^P^f - t ^ ^ M ' '". I f'".") ".' I .. J M fiO WALTER IIAULEY's COXQUEST. " He is a pluckly little chap," tliout^lit Walter, and he said : " If you want any help, just come to me." " Thank you, I shall.' And Bennie evidently scorned to fed that he had found a friend. Then the bell ransr. and all took their places. There were many glances directed toward the new boy, and many mentally took his measure. His school- mates soon found out tiiat he was a brave, manly little fellow, and the general verdict was that " he would do." It is true one tall young fellow, who was a regular fop, and thought more of style and dress than anything else, sneeringly remarked, in a tone quite loud enough for Bennie to hear : " I wonder if a New York tailor made that suit." " Come, Lansing ; no more of that when I am around,'' said Walter, quickly. And Lansing, who saw a dangerous flash in Walter's eyes, and did not care to provoke his wrath, turned away carelessly, saying with as much scorn as he dared : "Oh, I didn't know he was a friend of Walter Harley." " You know now," retorted Walter. And to say the truth, he felt very much drawn toward the little lad who was working so bravely for his mother. Hitherto Walter had kept all his resolutions, and, for- r, and he y seemed ell rang, the new is school- nly little .uld do." iilar fop, ling else, ough for lor made around," Walter's led away 1: ■> Walter say the lad who and, for- 1 WALTER HAULEY's CONQUEST. dl getting how little he had been tempted to break th?m, began to think very well of himself; and na he made entries in his diary of what he had done, he felt quite compliicont. But tlicre came a day not very long after this when his self-conceit wiis sadly taken out of him. He began this unfortunate day by lying in bed so long that he was late for breakfast, which called forth a rebuke from his father, who very much disliked unpunc- tuality. Then, when it was time to start for school, he could not find his mittens. He laid the blame on Bertha, who was a mischievous little puss, and scolded her until she began to cry; then he found them just where he had thrown them down the evening before. He went off in a very unamiable mood, and reached school just after roll call. This did not improve his temper. When recess came he quarreled with Ned Brookes about some trifling matter. Ned was tantalizingly cool and provoking, while Walter was so angry that he scarcely knew or cared what he said.- They almost came to blows, when Mr. Harrison appeared and ordered them both in, with a look of grave displeasure. As they left the school at noon, Ned, who was inclined to have the quarrel out, said, sueeringly : "I wonder what Mr. Harrison will think of his favorite now." fflr WALTER HARI.E\'S COXQUKST. Walter, stung by tlic taunt, turned on him fiercely, and what would have been the end it is difficult to say, had not Charlie Soniers, who was inclined to act the peacemaker, struck iu with, "Come now, Ned; enough of that," and drew him off anotiier way. Walter had brought no lunch that day, intending to dine at his uncle's, but he could not think of going now, he felt so miserable and disgusted with himself; so he bought a few cakes with some change he had in his pocket, after eating wiiich he began to recover his spirits. Then he began to justify himself by throwing the burden of his misdoings as much as possible on others, and tried to quiet conscience by resolving to do better in the after- noon. But, alas for good resolves ! the first hour was spent with Mr. Harrison ; the sight of him recalled the morning's events. Walter felt really imnoyed that his teacher should have seen him lose his temper, and he felt vexed with him because he had, us he thought, inter- fered. So he paid as little attention to the lesson as he possibly could without calling forth open rebuke. The second hour was spent w>.th one of the assistant teachers, Mr. Grant ; and Walter had no sooner entered the room than he felt possessed with a spirit of mischief The other boys were ready enough for fun, and Mr. Grant was fairly distracted with their antics. Although ■ V fi iifii I'i'j'nV' '.VALTEB HARLEY's CON'QDSST, 53 fiercely, It to say, act the ; enough iiding to ing now, f; so he i in his is spirits. e burden nd tried he after- lour waa illed the that his d he felt lit, inter- on as he assistant r entered mischief, and Mr. Uthough the poor man never had very good ordor in his room, he certainly felt more than usually discouraged this after- noon, and had it been near the end of the term would have sent in his resignation. At the close of school, Walter threw on his coat and cap, and was out ahead of all of his schoolmates, for he felt little inclined for company. When he reached home, he went straight to his room, closed and locked the door, and slammed down his books on his desk. Taking up a magazine, he threw himself down in a chair by the window, and began to look over the contents, but somehow he did not find it as interesting as usual ; sc, tossing it aside, he opened his geography, and tried to study the lesson for the next day. But he could not fix his mind upon it, and soon closed the book; then he leaned his head on his hands, and began to think. What a miserable failure he had made of that day ! Conscience spoke out loudly, and Walter felt that he had no excuse to make. Then a feeling of discouragement stole over him ; the tempter whispered : " It is no use for you to try any more; you see you cannot do right." And half aloud, Walter said : " Shall T always yield to temptation ? " Some one was singing down stairs, and the words came floating up : # fti WALTER IIARLEY's CONQUEST. " Ask the Saviour to help you, Comfort, BtreiiKthcn, ami keep you ; Ho Ib willing to all! you, rio will carry you through." Tlie words came like a licivvenly message to the dis- couraged boy. Ail ! tliat was the tr()ul)le : lie had for- gotten to nsk the Saviour to help him ; he had trusted in himself, and how soon he had been overcome ! Anew Walter sought the throne of grace for forgive- ness and help ; nor sought he in vain, for a peace and rest very unlike his former confidence stole into his heart, and it was with a cheerful air that he went to make friends with little Bertha, and carry her round on his shoulder. I, : II. CHAPTER VI. ) the (lis- Imd for- trustcd in r forgive- 3 and rest icart, and :e friends boulder. :: BENNIE HAUUI8. 11VER since Walter's thoughts had hcen directed to J helping others, he had been on the lookout for little opportunities of usefulness. So wlicn one day, about a week after the events recorded in tlio preceding chapter, he found Bennie, witli knit brows, poring over some difficult exanii)les in aritlnnetic, b.e offered to go home with him after school, and show him how to do them. Bennie readily accejjted the offer. So, as soon as the afternoon session was over, they started off in the di- rection of Bennie's home. After walking some distance, they turned into a lane in the outskirts of the town. On either side were small cottages, built at irregular inter- vals. Some of them were new ; others quite old, and very much in need of paint. Before one of the latter Bennie stopped. " This is our house," he said, with as nmch satisfaction as if he had been introducing Walter to a palace. " Was it not r-tunate," he continued, as they passed through the gateway and up the path to the door, " that mother found a house out of the town ? We shall have a garden 6t IJ 3i' 66 WAI/I'KR irAIlMOY's COXqUKST. in mimmei', you 8eo. Having hccii used to living in the country, I do not ivherefores, and so found it more difficult than he had imagined to give clear reasons for all he did. ♦, nu coiilil do ln'ttiT tliaii that, lml)y," miid Ikiuiio. IJiit Uubltio coiilil not l)e iK!r.suiidt'd to try u;,'iiiii, and Ui-nnic had to give up. " You were goinj; to show mo tho ship your uncle made," said Walter. " Y*^"; will you come up to my room ? " And Bennio led tliu way nj) a narrow, dark staircase into his bed- room. It looked so hare to Walter, as ho mentally contrasted it with his own w- U-furnished room. There was no carjict on the floor. The furniture consisted of a bed, covered with a patchwork quilt, one chair, a large chest and a washstand, with a small looking glass hanging over it. On a shelf on one side of the room was the toy ship, and some other boyish treasures. Beniiie took down the little craft, which was an excellent model of a sailing vessel, and Walter examined it with much interest ; for he had often tried his own hand at making toy boats, and he knew enough about them to appreciate the good points. "I wish I could make a ship like that," he said, as Bennie replaced it carefully on the shelf "It aever seemed anything to Uncle Joe to make them. He \.'ou!d sit working away at them in the evenings, and tolling us long stories about the foreign countries he had WAI.TKU IIAUI.KY's CONtJUKsT. CO (1 Bcnnio. ^'uiii, and jur uncle (1 Beiinio I hid bcd- 'oiitrn.«t('rl I was no [)f a 1)0(1, rj,'o chest hanging s tiie toy )ok down n sailing !rest; for jy boats, the good e said, as ke them. ings, and B he had toon. I must hIiow you the curiosities ho brought us. Whenever he came home from u long voyage he would bring hh iot.i of (lucer tilings that he had picked u|> in ditl'erent iilaces. Once he brought me a beautiful bird; but it did not live long. I Buppoae our climate did not suit it." They went down into the little sitting room again. There was no one there now. " We shall have a good chance to look at the things while Robbie is out of the way." And Bonnie opened a little closet, and brought out curiously shaped shells, and branching coral, and a hideous idol, and a tiny shoe of a Chinese woman, and many other odd things. The two boys looked at them and talked about them for some time. Then, while Bennie put them away, Walter turned to look at some framed photographs on the mantel. " Is this your father ? " he asked. " Yes, that is father. It was a very good picture of him when it was taken ; and that,' as Walter passed on to another, " is Uncle Joe ; and that one is mother." " Is that your mother ? " exclaimed Walter. It was a pretty, bright, girlish-looking face. " Yes," said Bennie, " that is mother. I can remem- ber when she looked like that ; but she grew so pale and thin when father was ill so long." The little boy spoke ri n 60 WALTER HARLEY's CONQUEST. sadly, and in a low tone ; then after a moment's pause, he added, cheerfully, « But she will look as well as that some day, when I grow to be a man, and can make things easy for her. I am ever so much obliged to you for showing me how to do those sums. I thiuk I am getting on nicely now, and Mr. Harrison encourages me so. I like him ever so much; he makes tie lessons so in- terestiug." "He does that everywhere," said Walter; "heiijust the same in Sunday-school." "Oh, is he your teacher on Sunday too? How I should like to be in his class." " Do you not go to any Sunday-school ? " "No; I have not gone to the Sunday-school of the church which we attend, because I do not know any one there, and I do not like to go in where I am a perfect stranger." " Come to our school, then, and go in Mr. Harrison's class. I'll call for you next Sunday, if you like." " I would like to go very much." And Bennie's face brightened. "I used to go to Sunday-school at home whenever there was one, and it seems lonesome Sunday afternoons without it. I will go if mothe. :. willing, and most likely she will be." "AH right. Twill call for you at two o'clock next I AVALTKR HARLEYS CONQUEST. 01 8 pause, he i that some hings easy )r showhig jetting on me so. I )ns so in- he h just How I lol of the ' any one a perfect Harrison's lie's face at home Sunday ing, and ck next I Sunday.'' And Walter started for home, well pleased to have gained another Sunday-school scliolar. Sunday proved .torniy. When Walter tald them at the dinner table at Uncle Morton's about calling for Bennie, Mrs. Morton said : " Not a very favorable day, is it ? Do you think it worth while to go, Walter ? " " I said I would,'" replied Walter, " and I shall do my part. If he does not want to come, he need not. I know he would not stay at liome from day school, and I do not see why he should make Sunday an exception ; anyway, I am going." " That is right, my bov," said his uncle, " always keep your word." So Walter set out, and after trudging all the way through drifting, whirling snow, was rewarded by find- ing Bennie ready and waiting for him ; and Mr. Harri- son was cheered by having an addition to his class on such a stormy day. " There will be special collections for church purposes next Sunday," said Walter, at the breakfast table, the following morning ; " and Mr. Harrison wants us to take one up in our Sunday-school class. Each one is to bring all he can, and it must be our own money. So provok- ing : I wish it was any Sunday but next Sunday." ■.:'■ WALTER barley's COXQUKST. " Why so ? " said his mother. " Because I have uot anything to give until I get my next allowance." " How does it happen that you have nothing ? " said his father. Walter colored. " The bill for that little work table I gave mother at Christmas came in this month. I couldn't pay it before," he added, apologetically, " be- cause Mr. Hawkins did not know just what it would come to until he made it." Walter knew his father objected to his running a bill. " It is evident that you couldn't have paid for it if he had," returned his father. " Oh, Walter, when will you learn to spend your allowance carefully, so tiiat one month will not encroach on the next ? " " I do try, father, but it goes before I think." " You are just such another as I was. I found it very difficult in my earlier days to live within my income, and if I had not learned long before this, I would not have been as prosperous as I am. However, about the collection next Sunday, if you like to come to the office after school and do some writing for me, you can earn enough to have something to give." " All right, father, I will," said Walter. And he went to school quite in good spirits, Walter waa naturally gen- < .. . CHAPTER VIII. THE PRIZE ESSAY. IT was Thursday morning, a week or two after the examinations. There was quite a ripple of excite- ment among the boys ; for after tiie opening exercises Mr. Harrison said he had "something to tell them which he was sure would prove interesting," and i*ead to them part of a letter from a Mr. Barlow, offering a prize of fifty dollars for the best essay on " English Literatui'e." Mr. Barlow was a friend of Mr. Harrison's, and a man of means. He had been present at the Christmas examination, and stated his intention of giving some prize. The announcement of his ofl'er was received with cheers. A prize of fifty dollars was worth trying for. " Those who wish to compete will let me know as soon as possible," said Mr. Harrison. At recess, most of the boys who thought they had a chance of winning the prize handed in their names. Among them was Walter Harley. He had won the prize for t best essay the previous year while still in the junior class, and, of course, did not intend to try for it again ; but Mr. Harrison agreed with him that he had H m». '^' ■mmim r m:'^^'.-! WALTER HARLEY's CONQUEST. 75 after the of excite- : exercisea leni which id to them a prize of iterature." I's, and a Christmas zing some jived with ng for. w as soon liey had a iir names. 1 won the lie still in to try for lat he had a perfect right to compete for the one offered by Mr. Barlow, which was something quite different and quite distinct from the ordinary yearly school prize. Walter had always excelled in composition; and perhaps no one stood a better chance of winning the prize than he. So the boys seemed to think, as they gathered in groups, discussing the relative chances of one and another. " Are you going to try, Ben ? " asked one of the boys, as Bonnie Harris joined one of the little groups. " Yes," he answered ; " and I only hope 1 shall be successful. If I am not, it shall not be for want of trying." Walter, wlio was standing a little aside, noticed such a look of determination in the blue eyes, and thought to himself, " How largo a sum fifty dollars must seem to Bennie!" " Not nmch chance for any of us when Walter Harlcy enters the lists," said one. " I say, Walter, just back out of this, and give some of us fellows a chance, won't you ? " said Artliur Somers. " He Avould be a fool if he did," said Ned Brookes. " Catch me backing out for anybody if I thought I was likely to get fifty dollars." And Ned whistled at the very thought. Then the bell rang, putting a stop to any farther conversation. m 'i • W WAI.TKR HAHLEY's CONQUEST. Walter did not find the walk home that afternoon either long or lonely, for his thoughts were busy. Already he had thought out the general plan for his essay ; but, ia the midst of all, Bennie's face would rise up before him, and he saw the wistful look in his eyes, as he had seen it that morning, when Bennie had said to Mr. Harrison, "I hope I shall get the prize." "I almost hope Beunie will get it. There is no one who needs it more," he thought. " Could you not withdraw your name, and so make his chance better?" a voice seemed to whisper. But Walter quickly silenced it with, "Oh, no; I could not do that. I am sure Bennie would not wish it. lie may win the prize, anyway." • ■ Benuie had indeed a good chance, for in tlie recent examination in composition he had taken the second place. He was by far the most original thinker among the boys ; but he did not express his thoughts so well as many, yet even in tliis respect he was steadily huj-ro'/iug. With these reflections, Walter dismissed all thoughts of Bennie, and went on again with his dreams of what he would do with the money in case he was succcosful. The prospect of possessing this amount as the result of his own exertions was very pleasing to Walter— far more so than if his father weie to give him the same amount !'^>U»» tBaieMsafistismu^ ^'miHmB.m ■NIINMMHlM frj,_^ i^j ! at afternoon sy. Already 3 essay ; but, ie up before s, as he had said to Mr. "I almost ^ho needs it id so make lisper. But r could not '•• lie may the recent the second ikcr among 3 so well as iii;;ir'i7iug, 11 thoughts ns of ■whr.t succeosful. e result of — far more tue amount ( WALTER HAni.EY'8 CONQUEST. 77 outright; and although there was not one boy who needed it less than Walter, he fondly thought that not one would make so good a use of it as he would. The next day came and went, and found Walter still thinking and planning for the prize. Saturday afternoon be went to see Bennie and found him in their little yard sawing wood. He looked so slight and delicate, working away with a saw almost tis big as himself. " We have just bought a load of wood," he explaineJ, " and I thought I would cut it up myself." "You have undertaken quite a job, I should say," replied Walter. "Are you not tired ? " " My back aches a little," said Bennie ; " that is all." And he paused to wipe the perspiration from his brow. " I have done all that this afternoon," pointing to a pile. "Pretty well, is it not? But then it has to be sj^lit and piled yet," he added, ruefully. Then, picking up his saw again, he went cheerily to work, saying: "It will be done some time."" " Give me an ax, and I will do some of the splitting." And Walter was soon working away with a wilL When he left that afternoon, his shoulders were aching, for it was unaccustomed work for him; but then he had helped Bennie, and all the ^yay home the little delicate boy was in his thoughts. " I wish I could do something 78 WALTKU HAULICYS CONQUEST, more to help him," he thought. He had visited the little cottage often enough to feel sure that, underneath the comfortable exterior, there was real poverty, none the less pinching because so careiuUy concealed. He had told his mother about them, ard she had visited the gentle little widow and had found plenty of sewing for her ever since, and had sent many things which her own family had outgrown, but r.at outworn, which could be used for the children. Mo.: than ever the thought piressed itself upon Wsiter: '^^.Miat a help that fifty dollars would be to Bonnie ! " uid then the other thought would come: "Couldn\ J make it easier for him to get it?" When he reached he he dismissed these thoughts without coming *o -n.y siu .-['? ctory conclusion.. It was not till evening, wl.en he wc-nt up to his room, that they returned. He had intended to look over his Sunday- K. •'>ool lesson ; but the moon was shini'ig in so brightly it geer.i'd a pity to light u lamp, so he sat down by the window and looked out on a scene ^f fairy-like beauty; It was a clear, wintry nigb.t. The stars twinkled faintly in the far depths of the heavens, their tiny beams nearly quenched by the light of the full moon, which poured its radiance over the snowy landscape. The thoughts of the afternoon now came trooping back, again. "Why not give up your chance to Bennie?" KW Pmp ;ed the littlo erneath the y, none the 1. He had visited the ' sewing for ich her own jh could be ;he thought p that fifty ,hcr thought r liira to get ese thoughts ion.. It was n, that they his Sunday- brightly it lown by the le beautj'; rs twinkled r tiny beams noon, which scape. The oping back , J Bennie?" T KV I WALTER HAI'.LEY 8 CONQUEST. 79 Beemed to ring in his ears ; and then folowed a dialogue between Walter and his good angel somewhat on this wise: " I cannot," said Walter's selfish self. " Why should I give up my right to any one? " " ' For even Christ pleased not himself." ' Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others.' " " That is a very high ideal. One cannot be expected to attain to it." " Why not ? It was written for struggling followers of Jesus just like you." " I would not mind giving up the money, if it were not for the honor of winning Could I not get the priKO, and then give the money to Bennie ? " " Do you think he would accept it? " "I suppose not. He has considerable pride ab :■' him. But it is hard to give up the honor of the thin^." And then, in imagination, he could hear tho compli- mentary words when the prize was presentefl 1 see the flattering notices in tiie local papers regard it. How proud of him all his friends would be Ah, yes, it would be iiard to give jp tlie honor." "Earthly honors are fleeting; only the honor that Cometh from God is immortal. In a f. v years, perhaps 1' .- ■ «y >8J f 1 no love for B resolution which you sure there thiit given, niJiinitively icd through But into the the reason, ody else a id over the 3 name, he —all! well, Iter one of ahout it for 3ut, Charlie n which all ivell pleased Meanwhile, ica] studies, 3 Latin and e. Nor did id to devote CHAPTER IX. WINTER SPORTS — THE COASTING PARTY. NOW came the days of hea\ y snow storms. The snow fell fast and thick. Noiselessly, flake upon flake, it eamc down, till it covered fences, and left no trace of the road ; then the wind i-ose, and whirled it round and round, sweeping it off" in some places, and piling it up in great drifts in others. Then began the shoveling and digging. There were parties of men out clearing the country roads. In the town itself, the sidewalks were kept clear by means of a large kind of snow plow drawn by horses. It did not matter to Walter whether the roads were (ilear or not, for he donned his snow shoes, and tramped ofl' across fields, and over drifts with the greatest ease. Many of his young acquaintances could snowshoe, and sometimes they made up a party, and went off* for a snow- shoe tramp, which they all thought most enjoyable. After the snow storms came a thaw ; tiien a rain which froze as it fell ; then sharp frosts agaiu ; and the snowy fi(>lds were covered with a crust hard enough to bear any one. SHtf'tli?JS)^.J,.4-;Uil!tJ< 8 W BgW**i'' •iiiliir MP 84 WAI/IKK HAULEY's CON'QUKST. " Wlnit n grand cliiiiiee for collating! " said Walter, to liiniself, as he looked out on the sloping uplands which stretched away hey(jnd the Harrington homestead, shin- ing like burnished silver in tlie morning suidigiit. It was Saturday, and Walter went into the town in the morning to see if he could find some of the boys, and arrange to make up a party and go out coasting; for it was before the duys of toboggans, and toboggan slides, and such a good opportunity as this must not pass unimproved. He failed to find any of the boys, how- ever. So, after dinner, he set out to see if Arthur and Mary Harrington could go witli him ; but the fates were against him, for on iniiuiring for Arthur he learned ho was sick in bed; he then asked for Mary. She soon appeared, dressed to go out. " I came to sec if we could arrange to go out coasting together," said Walter. " It is too bad that Arthur is sick. Can you go ? " " I am going," she replied. " Ned Brookes has just asked me, and he is in the yard now, getting the sled ready." Walter was very much disappointed. Mary was gen- erally his companion in all amusements, and to have Ned Brookes get ahead of him was quite too bad. For a moment or two he felt inclined to go home, but he I ^^ I Walter, to .iids which teud, shin- ;ht. ,e town ill ■ the boys, t coiwting; 1 Io1)(i,i,'l;iiii St not pass boys, how- irthur iuid fiitt'M were learned he She soon ut coasting Arthur is 3S has just ig the sled •y was gen- iid to have I bad. For »me, but he I WALTER IIARLEY .^ CONQtTKST. 86 remembered Adeline, and asked Mary if she thought her sister would like to go. "Slie would bo delighted, I am sure," said Mary, and went to call her. She accepted AValter's invitation, and shortly after appeared, looking as pretty as a i)icture. Walter began to feel quite honored to bo the escort of an acknowledged belle, so was in very good humor when he met Ned, and as gay as though all had hap- pened to suit him. Now and then he felt a pang when he saw Mary chatting in her merry way with Ned, for he did not feel so much at ease with Adeline. Happily, however, she was fully capable of carrying on the con- versation herself, without uuich aid from liim. They selected a starting point, and soon the sleds were flying along, faster and faster, down the hill ; now strik- ing a little hillock, and leaping a foot in the air, and bouncing down again, and on and on till, reaching level ground, the speed slackened and the sleds finally came to a standstill. There was such a long stretch of hill that it was grand fun, and they all enjoyed the excite- ment. Then came the long walk up again, and then another start, and so on. Botli of the boys could man- age the sleds very well, but Walter was the more careful of the two. . They had spent some time in this way. At last, they had a race to see which could reach the top 1 i : H(i w.\t;rKn iiaiilry'h roNQtiEsT. of tho hill lirst. Wiiltcr and Atli-lino proved the (|uit'k- ertt walk.'iH, iiiid reached tho Htiirtiiig pDUit fuxt. IVr- hiips Ned felt a little i)i(iued about it. At any rate, he Haid : " Come, Mary, wo won't wait t(;r them to start. Ia'I us take a new track." And he placed hi.s sled a little farther oH". " Look out, Ned, you will run right again."i«W»fe.*" ^^^m^im^^^^miM'miiimr: I..I ^ •lUniiLilUU.I WALTKPv MAULKY's CONQUEST. 87 "Oh, Mary, arc you much hurt, dear? " said Ada. "I think not," said Mary, speaking slowly; " it irf only a cut in my lip, is it not, Ada? " And she clung to her eistej'. They saw that that was all, as the bleeding gradually abated. "I feel so weak," said Mary, as she tried to rise. "I don't know why J am so foolish, but I feel all uUstrung.' "No wonder, having a shock like that; you might have been seriously hurt," said Ada. " You miglit have known that you would strike that fence," said Waller, addressing Ned, angrily. " We would have cleared it all right enough, only the sled struck tliis little hillock, and swung that way before I could change its course," answered Ned. "I am sure it was not Ned's fault," said Mary. And she gave Walter an appealing look, which seemed to say, "Please do not be angry on my account." He understood it, and said no luore ; indeed, he realized the next moment that it was unkind to repr )ach Ned, who felt badly enough as it was. They now turned their steps homeward. Mary talked quite gayly to keep up the spirits of the party, and when Walter and Ned took their leave, she assured them that she felt none the worse for the accident, save a slight K ..w^- •I m 88 WALTER HARLEY's CONQUEST. headache ; but to say the truth, she had a very violent headache, and had to go and lie down as soon &s she went into the house, and did not come down stairs that evening. 4r. s very violent soon aa she down stairs CHAPTER X. WALTERS DECISION. ALTHOUGH Walter was a true Christian, he had not yet made an open profession of religion, and so had not united with the church. His parents had never spoken to him on the subject ; they deemed it a very important step, and in their anxiety that solemn vows should not be taken lightly were too fearful perhaps of urging upon him a public confession of the Saviour. Lina Morton had often of late felt a great longing to see more young people brought into the church, and taking an active part in its services. She had hoped, as Avinter came on, that there might be a deepened interest — a general awakening, and that many might be gathered in. There were many of whom she thought ; some of them she felt sure were not far fi'om the king- dom, and she longed to have them take a decided stand on the side of Christ and his people. But the weeks slipped by. No special effort was put forth, other things crowded in and filled up the evenings, and the harvest time for the church was fast passing away. The church at ICuowlton was not very large, nor was ■^-Hkr- -^*' h 90 WALTKU IIARLEY's CONQUEST. there nny prospect that it ever would be ; for Kiiowlton W!i« not a growing phice, and tiic young jncn and the young women who might have been a strength to the ciuireh wen; obliged to go elsewhere to seek enii>loyincnt. Again and again the pastor, Mr. Somers, felt discouraged, na one and another of his helpers loft for some other l)lace. But still the little ehurch kept alive ; and it was the s])iritual birthplace of many whose energies were afterward employed in churches far distant. Walter was one of those who Avere often in Lina's thoughts. She wanted to speak to him about confessing the Saviour, whom she felt sure he was trying to follow. One day the opportunity came. Liua had taken tea at Elmwood, and as it was the evening of the regular church prayer meeting, Walter accompanied her to church. It was a beautiful night in March. The new moon hung low in the western sky, and threw a soft, mellow radiance over the scene. The snow, which had melted rapidly in the sun during the day, now crackled crisply under their feet. " What a splendid night ! " said Lina. " Yes ; too fine to be indoors," returned Walter. And then they walked along in silence for a few moments. There was one thought uppermost in Lina's mind: " What a good opportunity to speak to Walter I " Yet I — ik. WAi-TKn uahley's CONQUKST. 91 r Knowlton en and tho iigtii to the ini)loyincnt. liseoii raged, 80I11C other ; and it was ergica were a in Lina's t confessing g to follow, akcn tea at the regular ied her to The new irew a soft, which had )w crackled liter. And loments, ina's mind: terl" Yet :i she shrank from it. " I hope we shall have a good meet- ing to-night," she said, presently ; then she added, ab- ru]itly, feaitul lest her courage might fail, "Walter, why do you not unite with the church ? You arc a Chrintian ? " " I have thought of it sonletinlo^*," ho said, quietly, — evidently it was no new thouglit to him, — "but I have felt afraid that after joining the church I might, in some way, dishonor my profession. People expect very much of one who takes an open stand, and they would be more apt to notice any failures in me then than uow. "But, Walter, that is want of faith. The Saviour whom you avow is able to keep you from falling. You would fail now if you trusted in your own strength. And how are you most likely to receive blessing and strength — when obeying Christ's commands, or when neglecting them ? " "Well, Lina, I believe you are right, and I have thought for some time that when there was a good oppor- unity — when there were others uniting with the church — I Avould do so also." "Why wait for others, Walter? Perhaps they are waiting for some one else to lead the way, Why not be the first? Dome out alone, if need be, and others might soon follow your example." . . ...4» . . ra WALTER HAUI-EY's COXQUEST. " Oh, Lina, I could not do that ! How ciwy for Charlie and Arthur Soincrs— their father being the i)astor of the church— to make tiie first move." " I do not know that Charlie has given his heart to Jesus. Arthur is, I am sure, a Christian, but you know he is a timid, shrinking boy ; and just think how much strength you might be to him I I am sure that if one wijo loved Christ would openly confess that love, good results would follow. It might be the beginning of a revival." "Walter walked along very seriously for a while, and then said : " I suppose the members of the church would not care very much if I, a mere boy, should join. It will be some years before I can be of much use to the church." " You very much mistake Christians if you think they would feel no pleasure in welcoming you to their number. If you can be but little help inside the church, you cer- tainly are not any outside." They were near the lecture room now, and Walter said, decidedly : " I could never be the first." " I have done no good," thought Lina ; and certainly she felt that it was a hard thing for "Walter to do. There were no boys in the church, and she did not remer Ser when any so young aa Walter had joined. The prayer IT. sy for Cluirlie {Mistor of the hia heart to ut you know ik how much ■c that if one at love, good ginning of a a while, and ould not care ; will he some irch." u think they iieir number. reh, you cer- Walter said, nd certainly o do. There t remer *ier The prayer v: WALTER IIAULKVS CONQITKST. 93 meetings were not very largely attondiul, and thouc who took part in thorn were, for the most i)art, in middle life, or advanced in years. It would hv sucli a now tiling for a young lad to confess Christ that she knew it would bo an cfl'ort for Walter. Liua folt diaeouragod ; then she remenibored who it was that felt a deeper interest in the growth of his church than she possibly could, and she laid all her anxieties at the Master's feet, and felt his peace fill her heart. During the days that followed, everything conspired to bring the subject of their conversation constantly before Walter. The sermon on Sunday morning was from tho text: "Who is on the Lord's side?" and in the after- noon Mr. HarrlMiu followed up the words of the morning with an earnest appeal to his scholars to decide now whom they would serve ; and if any had made a decision to servo God, to openly avow it. A week psissed away, and again it was Fi-iday evening ; and Lina, as usual, set off to prayer meeting. She was alone, as her mother did not feel able to go out, that evening, and her father could not go until later. It: was less than five minutes before the hour of opening when Lina entered the lecture room, when only about a half dozen were present. Almost immediately after, Mr. and Mrs. Harley and Walter entered ; others came dropping i 'l I t " No," said Bennie ; " but I cannot seem to come." " Why, Ben, it is only just beUcving what God says, that for Christ's sake he freely forgives your sins, and gives you eternal life." But Ben could not see that it was " simply trusting, that is all.' He must do something, or feel something before he could feel satisfied that he was a Christian. Walter, telling his mother about it, said : " It does seem so strange ; there is Ned Brookes, who has always been so far off", is not troubled with doub+ at all, and good little Ben is all in the dark." "That is often the case," said Mrs. Harley : "'the last shall be first, the first last.' Perhaps we cannot do better for Bennie than pray that light may shine in upon him, and that the Holy Spirit may reveal Jesus to him." ^ CHAPTER XI. ANTICIPATIONS. ONE bright afternoon in May, Walter bounded into his uncle's. It was house-cleaning time, and he found Lina up stairs, mending a carpet ; for she was a practiced hand in making a worn carpet look almost as good as new. " We are not prepared to receive company," said Lina, with an arch smile. "So much the better," returned Walter, flinging his books aside, and seating himself on a table ; " I shall-not have to put on company manners." For a few minutes he sat in silence, watching Lina'c busy fingers as she deftly sewed the carpet. At length he heaved a doleful sigh. "What is the matter, Walter? You might groan if you had this carpet to mend ; as it is, I do not think you have much to sigh over." " Ah ! you don't know what is before me, Lina. Car- pets are nothing to it ! Cousin Flora is coming to spend the summer — only think of it, Lina, the whole summer ; she thinks it will do her health good." ■■g n> wiiig u i u ii j!Ln i» iB ai 'mr' -. i ;aj.i ' 1 M i l . I f i j i i .i. ji « ii l i : ,i ip(»jjftyiJglliMl.\,t<.Jl{P' . ' - ^ * ' ' '^ WALTER barley's CONQUEST. 99 p bounded into ; time, and he ; for she waa a . look almost as ny," said Lina, or, flinging hia e ; " I shall'not atching Lina'c; let. At length night groan if ) not think you le, Lina. Car- oming to spend vhole summer; fl Lina burst out laughing. " Is that all the sympathy you can show a poor fel- low?" returned Waltci', pretending to be indignant. " What difference does it make to you, Walter, if she does come to stay all summer? ' "All the difference in the world. She spent six weeks with us two summers ago, and I was so glad to see her go." "Walter!" " Well, I was ; and you would have been too, if you had been I. You know she is an invalid, or thinks she is, and when she comes to the table she looks as though she would die. She has no appetite : she cannot eat this, and she dare not take the other— in fact, nothing suits her ; and Avhen we go out for a drive, we have to walk the horses all the way, for if they went fast she could n(.t bear it, you know." And Walter put on a languid air. " Then she has to have every door shut, she is so afraid of draught ; she is always chilly when nobody else thinks of being so — and mother, just the sweetest mother in the world, generally gets in such a fuss when she is there ; and if I come in whistling, or happen to shut a door too hard, it is, ' Oh, Walter, do be careful ; I am afraid you will waken Flora : she is resting.' I do not see why she can- not rest at night, like othei folks." »ap* ^.rj ifjiiin i ix 100 WALTER IIAHLEYS CONQUEST. " Well, Walter, I think, from all you say, that Flora is very much to be pitied." " I don't think so ; I think it is mostly imaginary." " I think that you, who have never knoAvn a day's sick- ness, are not in a position to judge. It is easy for you to think lier ills are all imaginary. Perhp.iyi you ^vovild have a different story to tell if you were in her ahuci. You do not know how illness changes life ; if you did, you would have more patience with what seems to you now mere fussiness." " Still, I have known people," said Walter, " who I am sure suffer more than she does, and yet one scarcely real- ized that they were invalids, they were so pleasant and agreeable." " That may be. Flora may have been accustomed to dwell too much on her own feelings," said Lina. And then she added, gently; "Perhaps, unlike those others whom you have in mind, she has not yet learned what a friend we have in Jesus." Walter was silent for a moment or two, then said : " Well, I wibh she were different, since she is coming to spend the summer with us." " Think," said Lina, looking up with a bright smile, " that it is an opportunity for you bravely and manfully to lighten another's burden, ' to bear the infirmities of the *^i i NULmj'aETiiaMw i -79^ i \ ^■ ; i> i > iw ii li i t y EST. say, that Flora imaginary." iwn a day's sick- ; easy for you to you would have oh'.v..;. You do I did, you would I you now mere Iter, " who I am ne scarcely real- 30 pleasant and 1 accustomed to aid Lina. And ike those others learned what a , then said : she is coming to a bright smile, y and manfully infirmities of the WALTER HARI.EY's CONQUEST. 101 weak,' and not to please yourself, and the summer will pa.ss away more pleasantly." " You always think of something good, Lina ; but, after all, no matter what a follow might do, it would be all the same to Flora : she would not think anything of it." " We serve the Lord Christ," said Lina, reverently. The word went to Walter's heart. " I see, Lina," he said, thoughtfully, " it is enough if Christ approve, though we gain no praise from man." " Yes," said Lina, simply. Her needle went fltushing in and out of the carpet for a few moments, then she said, triumphantly, " There ! I have put the last stitch in this carpet." " Do you want to tack it down? " said Walter, jump- ing off the table with alacrity. "I will help you if you do." " Thank you ; that would be very good of you." And soon they were both at work, pulling and stretching and hammering. It did not take long to put it down ; then, with much laughter and merriment, they moved the furniture into place. " Now, does not the carpet look well ? ". said Lina. " It looks just splendid, Lina. I do not see how you managed it so well. I must go now ; it must be nearly six o'clock." 19^ 102 WALTEU IIARLKY's CONQUEST. "Stay to tea, won't you, Walter. We can give you something to eat, if ',w are Louse cleaning," " I can't stay, Lina, thank you ; tlicy would be looking for me home to-night. Dear me I only ten minutes; I must run. Good-bye, Lina ; good-bye, aunt.'' And Walter was off. " Dear 'ooy I " said Mrs. Morton, " it does me good to see him ; he is always so bright and merry." " Yes, he makes sunshme wherever he goes," returned Lina. Both mother and daughter sadly missed Rob, the only son and brother, wlio was away at college. He was un- like Walter, being quieter and more studious ; yet he too made brightness in his home, and it seemed very dull without him. Walter's boy friends knew they were always welcome to come to Mr. Harley's library whenever they wanted to gain more information on subjects than their own stock of books supplied ; and sometimes after school one or more would walk home with Walter to look up some additional facts in history, or to consult a larger atlas, or to gain additional knowledge from l)ooks of travel and research. Walter was not long in extending the invita- tion to Bennie. So one pleasant spring afternoon Bennie paid his first visit to Walter's home. ^ .'"HJKi!.mmw i | i l| iW nt^ >^. ifg^ mi f!itififf> A fi^t0^p ^f:: - / m'^ FEST. ^e can give you g." vould be looking [y ten minutes; 'C, aunt.'' And does roe good to ry." 5 goes," returned 3d Rob, the only ge. He was un- lious ; yet he too demed very dull always welcome sver they wanted than their own after school one to look up some a larger atlas, or ks of travel and ading the invita- ifternoon Bennie WALTEIt HAKLEY's CONQUEST. 103 " What a lo' ely home you have, Walter I " said Bennie, as they came in sight of the house. " It is j)leasant ; you must come often in summer, Ben. It will remind you of the country." Walter ran u\> the steps, arid led the way into the hall, and through rooms which to Bennie looked very spacious and handsome. But when they reached the library, Bennie felt like one on enclianted ground. " How lovely! " he said, half to himself, as he glanced r.round at the rows upon rows of books. " If I lived hf^re, I should spend all my time in this room." "Too much time for your own good," said Walter, laughing. "Now I am no such bookworm. I never expect to be killed by study. Here, Bennie, and here, and here," he continued, " are the books that will help you," drawing out one after another, and laying them upon the table. Bennie looked half bewildered by the array. He had come to gather up facts to help him in preparing his prize essay. "I shall not be able to look through all those," he said. "Oh, yes, you will," replied Walter. "In some of them there will be only a page or two that will invierest you. Take the study chair, and make yourself comfort- able." .a i» W' i> A »» *W » i l l. < ^' i " '* Wiff i r_ 104 WALTER HARLEY's CXJNQUEST. While Bcnnie searched the books, making occasional notes on a piece of paper, Walter selected a book of adventures, threw himself into an arm chair, and was soon engrossed in the tale. The time passed away quickly. At length Bennie closed the books, and said : " I have finished now. I think I have all the facts I need." "Yes?"' said Walter, abstractedly, still going oa reading. Bennie left the table, and took an easy chair by the fireplace, and seeing that Walter was absorbed in his book, he gave himself up to a quiet enjoyment of his sur- roundings, and dreams of a possible future in which he figured as the possessor of a similar house. Bennie had a happy disposition in that he never envied others more fortunately situated than himself. His good times were always yet to come; and hope painted many bright pictures as ho looked forth with vague longings into manhood. He was soon as deeply lost in his musings as Walter was in his book. Having come to the end of a very exciting adventure, Walter suddenly came back to the realization of things about him. " Oh, have you finished Ben ? " he ex-, claimed. " Did you find anything to help you ? " " Yes, thank you," replied Bennie. $ I'JL. ST. king occasional ted a book of chuir, and was 3 passed away ooks, and said : ) all the facts I itill going on 3y chair by the bsorbcd in hia uent of his sur- re in which he 3. Bennie had ied others more ;ood times were I many bright longings into in his musinga ting adventure, ation of things Ben?" he ex-. )you?'' ' 1 ' wm^f-l W' .^" ^i' '^ t " ' WALTKU IIAIILKV'S CONQUEST. 105 "Ck)me up again, and look tlieni over if you want to. I must lend you tliis book ; it is just splendid— so exciting." "1 should like to read it very lucli, but do not lend it to me until this essay is oil" my mind. I must stick to that." " All right ; you shall have it for the holidays." " How nice it must be to have all the books you want ! ' said Bennie, looking around with hungry eyea on the tempting volumes. "How I should like to have a library just like this! '" Walter smiled ; it seemed as though anything of that kind must be such a long way otf, and most unlikely of attainment for such a little fellow as Bennie. "It must be pleasant," continued Bennie, "to be a professor in a college, and have books always around one." "Yes," said Walter, "I suppose so; though I would rather go into business. Would you like to be a pro- fessor ? " " Oh, I would dearly like it," said Bennie, eiu-nestly. " Perhaps you may be some day." " I am afraid not," returned Bennie, with a little sigh. . " My brothers and sisters must have a chance, and I am the one who wUl have to help them. Father said when he died that I must take his place." i 106 WALTEU IIAUI.EYB UtKQUKST. Ah! how often a boy Hiuldcnly becomes a man ia thoiij^lit and I'eelinj,', wlieii nilli'd to take tiithcr's phice 1 As Walter looked into that boyisli i'aco, tlirouj,'!! wbieh shone the earnest purpose of a brave soul, ennobling and glorifying it, he could not say anything for the choking feeling that came in his throat. There wrs silence for a few moments. " I shall always study all I can, however," said Bennie, " and learn all I can, and have as many books around me as I can aflbrd to buy. But it is time I went home." " If you can wait a moment. I will fetch the mngazine I was going to lend you." " I am 80 much obliged to you," said Bennie, on leav- ing, " for letting me look through those book-i." " Oh, that was nothing. I am very glad to help you in any way," replied Walter. But he little knew how much he had helped his young friend by thus sharing hia advantages with him — how all good and worthy ambi- tions had been quickened and strengthened even by the 8igl)t of that home, which seemed, to Bennie's wondering eyes, like a glimpse into fairy land. liST. II1C8 a man in t'atlu'r'rt pliK'o I , tlirou^'li whicli 1, ciiiiohlingaiid fur thii choking " I shall iilwaya ' niid Iciini all I tm 1 can uiiurd Ii the magazine kiinic, on leav- lOolfl." id to help you ittlc know how titud sharing hia J worthy ambl- ed even by the inie's wondering j.j p i ii . I , |iii . i til l , I urn I III ■ CHAPTER XII. FLOUA LANQLKY. 111.011 A LA.NGLEY was a cousin of Mr. Ilarley'a. She wius an only child, and from infancy had been l)ettcd and Hpoiled by her parents. Indeed, their foolish indulj,'cnco was, in a great measure, tlio cause of her ill health. In childhood she was allowed to sit up late, to eat rich and unwholesome food, and had begun a round of parties wlien many a child wouhl be scarcely out of the nursery. It was little wonder, tlien, that by the time womaidiood was reached, Flora's health wtus ruined. She struggled along for some time. keei)ing up a round of pleasure, but became at length a perfect invalid, and now at thirty life was a burden she would fain lay down. And, as Lina had suggested. Flora knew not that Friend who bears uur burdens and carries our sorrows. It is true that, when able, she had attended church. She had heard Jesus proclaimed, had listened to his word, and was acquainted with the sweet promises of the gospel ; but they had fallen on her ears unheeded. Busy with earthly pleasures and pursuits, she had neither time nor inclination to listen to the Voice that pleaded with her. 197 J wh, 108 vv.\i;n;u iiaulkyh ci)Nqi;>>)T. But now, wlien health wiw ffmv, whoii all the«o ^i»yo- ticH cpaMcd to phifo, Flora lu'^'aii to fwl that achiiii^ void whicli all th[r. and Mrs. llarley were Christians. They could lielp her; she might there lind the rest she was seeking. Her parents hud planned to take her to u fashionable watering place, and were nmeh disappointed to find her mind set on going to Elmwood ; hut aa they always gratified her every whin), they yielded, and wrote the letter which hod tilled Walter with such rueful anticipations. When, however, one glorious day in early June, the carriage drove up to the door, and Walter noticed, as Flora alighted, how pale and thin fclie looked, ho felt really sorry for her, and ready to do his lest to make her visit as pleasant as possible. He tried to remember that there was an iuvalid in the house, and moved about gently. KHT. I all tlicMc f^ayo- oi'l tliiit acliiri)^ tintactioii in tlii.ak to 1 only tliiiik lior to tlio doctor for IVieruli and ait- nstinctivt'ly her . auto ^[r. and Id help licr ; slio ,'. Ilor parentH watering place, ind Hct on going iiied her every which hod filled early June, tho alter noticed, as looked, ho felt jest to make her a romeiuher that d moved about WAi.TKU iiAUi.EYH ro^•qlr^>^•r. 109 Flora felt fatigued after her journey, ami kept her room for a day or two. Walter wan just a8 well pleased; for ho had an iilca, wiiich perhaps was not wholly in- correct, that his cousin thongiil Ixtys in general trouhlo- 8ome beings who had to he tolerated, hut who were very much in the way, nevertheless. Con-secpiently he felt shy and awkward in her presence. Afk'r a few days I'lora began to feel much stronger, and Walter saw more of her. One evening, about a week after her arrival, they were both sitting in tho drawing room. Flora in an easy chair, doing nothing and looking rather miserable ; Walter by tho window, reading, with an uncomfortal)le feeling that ho ought to try and make things agreeable for his cousin, yet not knowing how to set about :'t. Just then his mother called him out of the room, professedly to help her about some- thing ; but her real motive soon api)eared when she said, in a low voice: "Could you not show Flora those new engravings, dear? She looks dull, and perhaps it would cheer her up." " I am willing, mother ; but she is sick so much of the time, I thought perhaps it would only bother her to look at anything." " She is feeling pretty well to-night, and I think she might enjoy it." ill' •1 .iMli i;;! 110 WALTER HAULEY's COXQITEST. " I always used to think, when she was here before, that slie did not care to Lave me around. She could look at the pictures herself, couldn't she ? " " Siie would be more inccrested, I am sure, if you were to look at ther;. and talk about them with her. Prob- ably it was only a fancy on your part that she disliked your company when she was here before. At any rate, you were only a boy then ; you are more manly now, and have your share to bear in the entertainment of all visit- ors. Come,"— as Walter still lingered reluctantly,—" you could easily do it if it were Mary Harrington ; and you must not allow your likes or dislikes to govern you in your intercourse with others." This was enough. AValter started for the drawing room. " I suppose she will be indifferent about it ; she generally is about everything," he thought. It was such a simple thing to do, and yet he was conscious of making a pain- ful effort, when he said, somewhat stiffly : " Would you like to see these new engravings, Cousin Flora?" ; She responded very heartily, however. " Yes, indeed, I should. Your father said I must look at them Avhen I felt well enough." Walter drew up a small table, and opened the port- folio. Then Carrie stole in. [UEST. was here before, i. She could look 1 sure, if you were with her. Prob- t that she disliiicd jre. At any rate, re manly now, and nment of all visit- ■eluctantly, — " you rington ; and you to govern you in the drawing room, t it ; she generally was such a simple »f making a pain- mgravings, Cousin t >r. sr said I must look 1 opened the port- WALTER HAULEY'S CONQUEST. Ill " Come, Carrie, here is a place for you," said Flora. " Bring your favorite little stool, and look at these pictures with us." Flora was very fond of the gentle little girl, and Carrie was equally fond of her. Carrie, by her lively, childlike interest in the pictures, and wise little remarks about them, very much helped both parties to be social. When at length they had finished looking at tliem, and laid them aside, Carrie said : "Flora, you play on the pinno, don't you?" " I used to, dear ; but I have not played anything for a long time." " Oh, do to-night, wont you ? " pleaded Carrie. "Yes, do," urged Walter. "I am so fond of music. I make Lina play all the evening when she comes.'' So Flora yielded. She thought she could scarcely play anything ; but the half-forgotten melodies came back to mind as her fingers ran over the keys. She was really an accomplished player, and in younger days had taken more interest in music than in any other study ; and now she charmed her listeners with many light, lively airs. When at length she declared she could remember nothing more, Carrie said : " Now, Walter, won't you play and whij^tle, ' The Mock- ing Bird'?" i na WALTER barley's CONQUEST. "Oh, no, Carrie," said Walter, growing suddenly bashful. " I wish you would," said Flora; " you ought to do your share. I am sure I have done mine." Carrie also continued to plead, so finally Walter sat down to the piano. When he had finished " The Mock- ing Bird," Carrie thought of something else— a comic Bong-she wanted him to sing; and Flora laughed more heartily than Walter had ever known her to do. Just then Mre. Harley entered the room. " You are enjoying yourselves, I sec,"' she said, smilingly. "Oh, yes," said Flora. "I have spent a delightful evening." " Why, Carrie, my dear, are you not in bed? " said her mother. " I was busy, and had quite forgotten you." " I am so glad you did, mamma." "What! ten o'clock?" said Flora, looking at her watch. " How quickly the evening has passed ! " From that time the barrier of reserve between Walter and his cousin was broken down. She seldom was well enough to spend so social an evening as that, but she took a far more lively interest than formerly in everything Walter said or did. Walter was growing by degrees very thoughtful. It was becoming quite natural to him to close a door gently, or lower a blind when the light 1 I -»»^ [JEST. rowing suddenly I ought to do your nally Walter sat hed " The Mock- ig else — a comic )ra laughed more her to do. Just she said, smilingly, spent a delightful in hed?" said her brgotten you." i, looking at her s passed ! " fc between Walter ,e seldom was well 3 that, but she took erly in everything owing by degrees jitc natural to him ind when the light WAT-TEU HARLEYS COXQUKST. 113 was too strong, or close a window after sunset, or arrange cushions and shawls wlien Flora sat on the veranda or the lawn. " I took Flora out for a walk yesterday, Lina," said Walter, one Sunday, when relating his experiences. " I never walked so slowly in all my life. We went as far aa the gate and back, about a quarter of a mile altogether, I suppose, and honestly, I was more tired than if I had walked three miles. I thought if she walked a little faster she would not be so fatigued ; but if I quickened my pace ever so little, she would say, ' Please, Walter, walk a little slower.' It must be dreadful to creep along at such a snail's pace all the time." " No doubt it must be," said Lina. " We ought to be thankful that we are so strong and well." Walter was encouraged in his good endeavors when his mother said to him one day : " Flora says the brightest bit of the day is when you come home from school. That is as it should be," she added ; " we all like a sunny face, and a cheerful word, but to invalids it is especially cheering." The weeks rolled rapidly by, and vacation drew near. The last week of school had come, and every morning the boys eagerly scanned the slips of paper i)inned on the wall announcing the results of the examinations in the n^ ill liiiyii ^''lii II I m ' m 114 WAI.TEB HARLEY'S CONQUEST. different branches. Of course, some were careless about their standing. They expected to be at the foot of the class, and their expectations were realized ; and tlie fact that they would just as soon occupy that place as not was to their teachers a most unpron)ising sign. But the majority were quite anxious to know whether they had earned good marks or not. The essays had been handed in and sent away to the judges, and their decision was awaited with great anxiety on the part of those who had competed for the prize. The day immediately preceding the public examination came, and at the close of school all waited in breathless silence to hear the important announcement. " The essays," Mr. Harrison said, " were all of a high order ; but there was one deserving of especial mention, and showing exceptional talent. When I mention the name of the writer, I am sure you will all agree with me that no one is more deserving than he, and I know you are ail generous enough to be glad at \m success, even though you personally may be disappointed. Tho successful competitor is Bennie Harris." The announcement was followed by deafening applause. When order was restored, Mr. Harrison, in a few kindly words, congratulated the sue ■ <^sful y^ung essayist. As for Bennie, he felt like one in a dream. For a few TEST. re careless about t the foot of the cd; and the fact place as not waa sign. But the whether they had sent away to the ritli great anxiety )r the prize. The xaniiiuition came, ;ed in breathless nent. were all of a high especial mention, en I mention the all agree with me he, and I know lad at his success, lisappointed. The leafening applause, n, in a few kindly mg essayist, dream. For a few J 1 WALTER IIAUUKYS CONQUEST. 115 moments everything whirled around liiiw, and the voices sounded very far away ; but by the time school was dis- n)is.^cd, he had sufficiently recovered himself to respond to the congratulations showered upon liir.i. Bennie was a general favorite, and every one was sin- cerely glad that he had won, especially since it was well known tliat the money would be very acceptal)le to him. Walter felt more pleased than ho could tell any one ; and as he looked at Bcnnie's happy face and shining eyes, and realized how much the })rize meant to him, lie felt as tiiough any sacrifice he had made was notliing. The public examination came, and the boys ac(piittcd themselves well. The awarding of tlie j)rizes was pcriiaps the most interesting part to the visitors, the nuijority of whom found Latin and Greek, Quadratics and Loga- rithms rather dry. Arthur Somers received a valual)Ie prize of books for excellence in English studios ; Ned Brookes gained the mathematical prize; Walter was the winner of the classical medal, in tlie competition for which he was closely followed by Arthur Somers ; while Bennio received his prize in bright gold piecses. .^;¥ CHAPTER XIII. DAYS AT FAIBHAVEN. THE Sunday following was a bright, warm day, but Mr. Harrison's boys were all in their places at Sunday-school, for this was the last Sunday their teacher would be with them for seven or eight weeks, as he always spent his vacation away from Knowlton. To-' <^>'<^8 open, and use every opi-ortunity to be belpl'ul to others, and carry sunshine with you wherever you go. Now how many of you will try to fill these holiday hours with service for Christ, in some way or other? " Several hands went up. Ned's was not among them. " What! undecided, Ned?" said Mr. Harrison, with a kindly smile. " I do not like to make promises when I think I am almost sure to break them," said Ned. " Well, Ned, there is somethinj? in that. We arc all liable to break our good resolutions, unless they have been made in dependence on One stronger than we; yet remember, 'I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.' And then I only asked you to /ry I fear," he added, " that some of you arc not prepared to do Christian work in these holidays. You have need of the Saviour first. Do not let these leisure hours pa.s9 : away without seeking Christ. He will certainly be found of those who seek him, and then how full of bless- ing these coming weeks will be to you." After the close of Sunday-school, Charlie Somers, Ned Brookes, and Walter found themselves together, and as they sauntered alcng in company, Charlie said : ; ere, true to I your cyca il to otluTH, 1 po. Now hours with nion<» them, •ison, with a : think I am We are all !s thpy have iian we ; yet Dhrist which rou to try I t prepared to have need of re hours pass certainly be full of blcss- Somers, Ned Tether, and as aid: WALTER IIAnLEY's COKQUEST. 119 " I never thous^lit before of doing good when I went" away. I always su|ii)o.sod I went away to reeeite giioil. I never tiiouglit nuicli about it, to sa/ the truth. " You don't catch mo running around, and looking up prayer meetings and Sunday-scliools in tiiis hot wcatiicr,' put in Ned Brookea. " It is all well enough for Mr. Harrison, if he liltes ; but for my part, I liiio a holid.ly from everytiiing when I go away. Then what is the use of wearing ones self out helping others. I go in for having a good time." " Porliaps you might find your g od time in that way," suggested Walter. " I can't see it. I am going on a fishing trip first, any- way, and I don't suppose I can do much good then. Well, I suppose I'll see you .-"jain before I go." And Ned turned down a side street toward his home. " Ned doesn't talk like a very earnest Christian," said Walter. " The set he goes with don't help him much," returned Charlie Somers. " Who are they ? " " Oh, Sam Lewis, and ' Tip ' Johnson, and that young Slocum." " I wonder that Ned keeps company with them." " Well, you see they make a good deal of him. He ; iil 120 WAI-TKB HARLEY's CONQUEST. told fiithcr ho thought the boys in the church were Htifl' and unitociublo." " I don't think we arc stitFat all," said Walter. " He ia a hard fellow to get along with ; for my part, I do not understand him." " There is considerable good in him, if we only knew how to bring it out," said Arthur Somers, who had joined them while Walter was speaking. " It is hard to bring it out, then. I get quite out of patience with him. I fancy he doesn't like me, anyway." " I would not think that, Walter," said Arthur, quickly. " You will never understand him if you do. Perhaps if we only tried to luiderstand him, and like him, ho would be more influenced by us." " I am sure ho does not know what we think of him, 80 that cannot be the barrier between us," returned Walter. " How do you know he doesn't ? " said Arthur. " I think people instinctively know whether wo like them or not. We show our feelings a great deal more than we imagine." " I do not know what is going to be done about it, " said Walter. " I am sure I cannot feel differently." Here the matter dropped. Walter's tlioughts returned to it later, after his two friends had left him. Was it i ,. "WW. l|"Ji ■ h were Htirt' Iter. "lit! rt, I du not only knew I luiilj<)inei;,'lil)()riiig timii Hoiiiu iconic from n a nieniiuro urcli offered man. Ho ill pliice, to at is calhMl aud do the nd hu used Easter lioli- •d. He was d always a In the day and,, being re, he could instruction, was equally s chair for WAI-TKn IIARLKY'h OONtiJII-XI'. 123 Carri<'. In tlio winter oveningH he wm nlwayn ready to jday jfanict*; and, indi-cd, wiicn ynun;,' fritiids canic to H[H'nd tliocvenin;^', Unclu Guor^'o was in constant "QUEST. tree in the orchard where the robin built its nest, and the spot where the prettiest wild flowers grew. On rainy- days she would sit at the little casement window in the attic, and listen to the rain pattering; on the roof. Ah ! yes; it was just the place that a dreamy child would de- light in. Carrie too was very fond of her aunts, and did not object to tlieir precise ways ; and they, in turn, lavished a wealth of affection on her ; for was she not the child of their favorite nephew ? Indeed, they took it as quite a hardship if they did not see both "Walter and Carrie at least once a year. The day at leugth came when Walter was to start on his holiday, and he took his place in the train with quite a feeling of importance ; for this was his first journey alone. He looked forward also with much interest to the end of his journey; for he had never seen Fairhaven, and there is always a charm in novelty. It was about two o'clock when the train left Kuowlton. After a rapid ride of two hours, Perley Junction was reached, where Walter had to change cars. The car he now entered was poor and uncomfortable, compared with the soft-cush- ioned, easy-running one he had just left. The scenery too was uninteresting ; and the train went at such a slow rate that Walter was quite out of patience. But at length the swampy lowlands began to give place to hills, its nest, and !W. On rainy ifindow in the he roof. Ah ! ild would de- ler aunts, and they, in turn, •r was she not d, they took it 1 Walter and ^as to start on lin with quite 1 first journey interest to the iu Fairhaven, It was about After a rapid cached, where w entered was the soft-cush- The scenery at such a slow nee. But at place to hills, WALTER HARI.EY's CONQUEST. 125 " * mmmm0*.*.Mi*^mii! and Walter knew he must be drawing near his destina- tion. Then he caught a glimpse of the beautiful blue ocean. A few minutes more, and the train stopped at the Fairhaven Station ; and there was Uncle George, waiting on the platform. " Well, Walter, my boy, I am glad to see you," he said, giving his nejihew a hearty hand-grasp. " This is all your baggage, is it?"' picking up a valise. "Then follow me, this way." And they passed quickly by the loungers who are apt to be about a railroad platform, and were soon walking rapidly along the main street. Presently they turned up a side street, quiet and coun- try looking, with grass growing on either side. It was up hill all the way now ; and Walter had hard wcrk to keep up with his uncle's rapid strides. : " There is my church, Walter," said his uncle, pointing to a neat, unpretentious building a little farther up the hill ; " and the parsonage is close by it. You see we live on the heights, and have a fine view. There, now turn and look. Doesn't that repay o:?'> for the climb?" Walter did a-s he was bidden. " Yes, indeed it docs," he exclaimed. Beneath them, on the side of the hill, and clustering about its base, were the white houses of Fairhaven. Be- yond, the eye wandered over the bay, — its blue waters 3 ^' m H m m 126 WALTER IIARLEY's CX).\QUES'r. dotted here and there with snowy white sails,— and away out ftirther still, to where ocean and sky seemed blended in one. Over all, the setting sun threw its glory. Its rays tinged the white houses with a ruddy hue ; threw a warm glow over the rocky ledges that stretched far out on either side of the bay ; gleamed on a distant cottage window, till it shone like a radiant star ; touched the weatiier-beaten sails of tiie fishing bop^j, and made them look like fair, white wings. • They paused for a few moments, to take in the quiet beauty of that evening scene, and then Uncle George said : " We must not stop longer, Walter. It is growing chilly. You will have plenty of opportunities to see Fairhaven by sunrise and sunset, and by the ' pale moon- light.' So we will hurry on ; for you must be quite ready for tea by tliis time." They turned now into a road leading along the heights. The sun had sunk beneath the horizon ; and the glory had faded from the scene, leaving it cold and gray. " How different the same things look now the sun has gone ! " exclaimed Walter. " Yes," replied his uncle. "I could not help thinking, while looking on it, that just so dull and cheerless is lift without the Lord Jesus." They were at the parsonage gate now ; and his uncle ' ■>y .". ' «BiH"Jg i , - ff^ , ' ^"- f j;jl!Ai.U ! jJMJ ' - i 8, — and away imed blended 3 glory. Its liue ; threw a tolled far out slant cottage touched the 1 made them 3 in the quiet ncle George It is growing nitics to see ' pale moon- 3 quite ready f the heights, nd the glory I gray, the sun has Ip thinkin/^, erless is lift d his uncle WALTER HARLEY'S CONQUEST. 127 turned the latch, and Walter followed him up the gravel walk that led to the door. The house was low, with wide windows on either side of the door. At that Mrs. Harlcy was standing to welcome them. Walter did not need to be introduced to Aunt Jessie ; for she and Uncle George had spent a few days at Elmwood on their wedding trip. He had yet, however, to become acquainted with little Paul, the three-month's-old son and heir. He could not have this pleasure that evening, however, as, like a good orthodox baby, he was fast asleep. Aunt Jessie showed Walter up to the spare bedroom. It was a pleasant room, very neatly furnished; and he was very glad to use the means it afibrdod to re- move the dust and grime of his journey. As he came down stairs, an appetizing fragrance of coffee was wafted up ; and when he entered the cosy sitting room, he found a tempting tea table prepared for his entertainment. "We waited tea to-night till you could join us, Walter," said his uncle ; " we thought it would be more sociable to sit down together." And a merry little party they made, all prepared to do justice to the delicate ham and j 'iffy biscuits, the rich preserves and light cake. Walter felt at home at once, and soon was conversing freely on different topics of the day ; for his uncle was !■ 1, 128 WALTER HAHLEV'S <;OXQUE.ST. one who always made young people feel that he was their friend. He liked to hoar them state their views on subjects that interested tliem. He always respected their opinions, however crudely expressed, and did not set them down because they sometimes dared to difl'er from old-estu.jlished authorities ; so he won their confidence. They felt that he gave them credit for being something, and that he appreciated the best that was in them, and they were encouraged to tell him their ambitions and aspirations, their troubles and perplexities, knowing that they were sure of his sympathy and help ; and he, in turn, would often ask their advice and help, thus making them feel that he looked on them as friends. It was not much wonder, then, that he had an enthusiastic band of young workers in his church, nor that he often received letters from those who had gone out to the great cities to seek their fortunes, and whom he still remembered with kindl; .ntei-jst. The evening passed away quickly ; then, before they separated for the night, Mr. Harley, in a few words, gave thanks for protection and guidance during the day, and asked the Heavenly Father to keep them all that night. And when he prayed " that our dear young friend might in this visit ' be blessed and be a blessing,' " Walter's whole heart responded " Amen ! " that he was leir views on spected their did not set ) differ from r confidence. J something, n them, and ibitions and :no\ving that ; and he, in thus making It was not Stic band of len received rcat cities to tnbered with before they words, gave he day, and that night, riend might /"Walter's M Walter Uurley'e Couiiiicat. Page 129. - ',l-H-,JBl,mJ^ ^,li. ^_. ,\ |, Jtl, ^ ^J . i_, ,., ^ yn;^y^^ ^ I. WALTER HARLEY's CONQUEST, 129 FT ^ ».#• Walter was just ^o'mg up stairs, when his uncle, who had gone to tlie front door, called him ; and, as Walter came out, lie said : " Is not that a picture ? " The full moon ])oured a flood of silvery light over sea and land. Beneath tiiem tiie little town lay hushed and still, while out on the bay the moonbeams, falling athwart the rippling waters, made a shining pathway, that seemed as though it must 'surely lead to heaven. "Fairhaven is fairer than ever by moonlight," said Walter. And the vision of that bright scene followed him until he closed his eyes in sleep. Walter came down the next morning in the best of spirits. The morning sun streamed cheerfully into the sitting room. Here he found his uncle, with Baby Paul. " This is the king of the house, Walter," said Mr. Harley, holding up a blue-eyed, round-faced, rosy-cheeked boy. . , The blue eyes gazed wonderingly at Walter; soon the baby lips parted in a little smile, and it was not long before they were the best of friends. "Are you ready for a ramble, Walter? " said his uncle, at the breakfast table. "Yes, indeed. I think, in this bracing air,' I could walk miles." > I 180 WALTER HARLEY's CONQUEST. "Well, you must walk over to the shore with me, nnd and I will show you my favorite nook, where I like to sit and watch the tide come in ; but first," continued Mr. Harley, smilingly. •'! must take you around my estate." So after breakfast Walter accompanied his uncle around the place. The little plot of ground in front, which was Mrs. Harley's especial charge, was tastefully laid out with beds of flowers set in a smooth lawn ; here and there were planted a few hardy shrubs ; a climbing rose waved its pink buds into the sitting-room window, every breath of air wafting their fragrance through the room. Behind the house was a vegetable garden ; at the side of the house grew a few fruit trees ; beyond was a pasture for the horse and cow. Walter found that his uncle had been up since five o'clock, working in his garden, and tending his live stock; and the order and neatness everywhere pre- vailing showed how systematically and thoroughly he worked. About eleven o'clock they started for the shore. Mr. Harley took with him a note book and pencil. " I often jot down thoughts for my sermons when I visit my little nook," he said. "At other times, I take a book with me and study." They did not go down ii.to the village, but struck y-^fl^x-^ ■■■E^^.'^sia's.'afej^r'^s rith me, and re I like to ntinued Mr. my estate," 1 his uncle id in front, m tastefully lawn; here ; a climbing om window, through the garden; at beyond was p since five ig his live where pre- iroughly he shore. Mr. ons when I as, I take a but struck , WAL.TEn HARLEY's CONQUEST. 131 across the country, and came toward the shore on the other side of the point of land which shut in the bay. Here tiio waves rolled in with more force than in the land- locked haven. They followed a narrow pathway leading down the rocky sloi*. About half way down, Mr. Harley stepped aside, round a huge boulder, and they found themselves in a little recess. Here, sheltered from the winds by the rocks, they could sit and look far out to sea, and watch the white-crested waves, as they followed one another in quick succession, and broke on the rocks beneath, dashing high a shower of silvery spray. By-and-by Mr. Harley began to write. Walter had a book with him, but he found the book of nature more attractive that bright morning; so he sat idly teasing pebbles down the slope, listening to their clink, clink, as they bounded from rock to rock, and were lost to sight. And all the while he was dreaming of the future that stretched before him, vast and trackless as the ocean on which he gazed ; and his thoughts flitted as lightly and joyously over it as the birds that skimmed the sparkling waves. After a while, Walter began to study his uncle, who was lost in deep thought. There was something rugged about Mr. Harley's countenance, and when in intense thought an almost stern look ; but how soon that could chan!li^33^&i WALTKU HAIlLKV'a C'OXQUEST. l.'J3 Walter well d seemed to ill expression i;lt suffering. Hire that Iiis i that of his t his uncles worldly pros- ved that ho nity how he ncle George est gaze, hia old fellow, ling of the sk the ques- t something nt a passing iir attention. he has been 'robably the "Well, they have outridden it, and will soon be in port," said Walter. "Yes," returned his uncle, gazing abstractedly out over the waters, and speaking more to himself than to Walter, "through storm and through calm, 'go ho bringeth them unto their desired haven.' " His eyes ^ musingly followed the vessel for a time ; then, suddenly recollecting himself, he pulled out his watch. " Come, Walter, we shall only just roach home in time for dinner; and we must not keep your aunt waiting." " You are just like my father; he is so punctual, and cannot bear to have one of us a minute late." " It is just as easy to be in time as to be just a few minutes late, and it often saves others a great deal of inconvenience. This afternoon, Walter, you will have to explore alone, as I .shall not be able to go with you ; and I advise you to make tlie most of to-day, as there will be rain shortly." "Why, uncle, there is not a cloud in the sky," ex- claimed Walter. "True ; but we have a barometer that never fails. Do you see that cloud-like line on the horizon?" turning and pointing seaward. "Yes, plainly ; it is an island, is it not? " "Yes; it is Sandy Head Island. Now when you can -„ jL... 184 VVAI/rKH IIAIU.KY's a)NQIJE8T, Bee timt HH di-^tiiictly uh you can to-dii)' thoro id Huro ti) be a Mtorm in a diiy or two." i " Tlmt M too bad," hiiid Walter. " I wan sure wo were going to iiave line wcatlier by tlic appearance alK)Ut uj ; however, I suppoHO I must tal;c tilings a.x tliey come." Walter sjKjnt the afternoon in wand(!ring ar(>und the town. It was a very (piiet, sleepy place. Some of the HtreetH were qnite graw-grown, and not a ])er8on wa.s to be seen on them, the ducke, geese, and chickens appear- ing to have the monopoly of these less freciuented jjarts. On the slope of the hill at the back of the town, he passed some snbstantial houses, built by retired sea caji- tains. Walter thoroughly enjoyed his ramble ; and gave an amusing account of it to his uncle and aunt over the tea table. , , i , The next morning proved cloudy and foggy, just as Mr. Harley had predicted, and before afleriioon a steady rain had set in. Walter concluded to write letters home. " You had better come to my study," said his uncle ; "there are pens and paper there, and you will be undis- turbed." The study was a little room in the right wing of the house. There Mr. Harley had all his books. There was a door on one side leading into the sitting room, and on the other side one opening into the garden. Walter was ■S^iPSB: in Huro to be Hire wo were ce about ii.* ; y como." around tlio Some of the trsoii woH to kens appciir- leiited })artH. lie town, he ired sea oain c ; luid giive lilt over the ffiry, just as 3011 a steady etters homo. 1 his uncle; ill be undis- wiiig of the There was lom, and on Walter was WALTKU haulky'h C(»N0UFJST. 136 Boon I'Hf^aKed in letter writiiiK; wiiilc his uncle bu>astor, as Walter learned in the course of his stay. ST. just then Mrs. 1 you take him •ving?" id he was soon , while Walter gleam of sun- )rgc; "we can irs, when Aunt minutes later, muddy streets. 1 into the town ointed out the when he first in which they efforts ; and it ng hold on his people, that I ver my connec- to their j*astor. CHAPTER XIV. OPPORTUNITIES IMPROVED. SUNDAY morning came, and Walto. let for the fii-st time with the congregation at Fairhaven. It was also the first time he had ever heard his uncle preach. Mr. Harley's style was simple, earnest, direct ; and he spoke with a heartfelt conviction that made his words come :vith power to the hearts of his hearers. After the service he passed in and out among the people, shaking hands with one, making inquiries after some sick friend or absent child of another, and so on. He introduced Walter to a great many of the people— so many, in- deed, that Walter was afraid he could never remember them all. In the afternoon Walter went to the Sunday-school with his aunt, who was jne of the teachers. The super- intendent came up to speak to him, and asked him to teach a class whose teacher was absent that day. Walter hesitated for a few moments ; he would nmch rather not teach, but he remembered Mr. Harrison's counsel to his class to do all the good they could while away. Then the words of Holy Writ came stealing into his heart, 141 ti M 142 WALTER HARLEY's CONQUEST. i! I "Even Christ pleased not himself." So he said: "I will try and teach the class," and followed the superin- tendent to the other side of the room, where he found a class of half a dozen boys. It must be confessed Walter felt somewhat embarrassed, for some of them were quite as large as he. The superintendent had, however, spoken truthfully, when he said it was a nice class. They were all poor boys, and not nearly so well informed on Scrip- ture subjects as Walter; and as he could speak with considerable ease and fluency, he won their close atten- tion ; 80 the half hour passed away quite quickly. Walter found opportunities for doing good on other days than Sundays. He sometimes accompanied his uncle to see some of his parishioners. One of these visits was paid to the home of a little boy who was suffering from spinal disease. Walter felt sorry for the little invalid, shut in from all active amusements, and soon he became a frequent visitor at the house. Jamie's eyes would brighten so at his coming ; for he would sit down by him ai.J read him a story, or whittle out some little toy. One close afternoon, finding him very poorly, he took the mother's place by the bedside, and fanned the little fellow, giving the mother an opportunity to attend to some household duties. On Wednesday evenings Walter always went with his I iT. sftid : " I will the superiu- ii'e he found a ifessed Walter em were quite )wever, spoken a. They were med on Scrip- Id speak with lir close atten- [uickly. good on other ^om.panicd his One of these boy who was t sorry for the lusements, and ouse. Jamie's r he would sit [little out some m very poorly, ie, and fanned opportunity to 9 went with his WALTER barley's CONQUEST. 143 uncle to the prayer meeting. He had, as yet, a sweet boyish voice, and so could help in the singing. Nor did he find it hard in that little company of simple-hearted believers to speak of his love to Jesus, and his determi- nation to follow him. The second Sunday of Walter's visit wius a drenching wet day. As Walter stood at the window, looking out on the stormy scene, he thought, " Surely uncle won't be able to drive to Orme's Cove to-day,' where Mr. Ilarley always held service on Sunday afternoon. The bay was wrapped in a fog ; a strong wind blew from the sea, driv- ing the rain in sheets against the window panes. Walter turned away and seated himself at the organ. While he waa looking in the hymn book for some familiar tune, he heard his aunt say : " You surely will not go to-day, George ; there will not be any one there." " It is my duty to be there, whether any one else is there or not," her husband replied. " If there is no one at the schoolhouse, I can go into Deacon Andrews' house and hold a service. There is quite a large household there, you know." " Well," said Mrs. Harley, with a little sigh, " I sup- pose it is right to go ; but it seems rather hard for you to have to drive so ftv in such a storm." ^i 144 WALTER HABLKY's CONQUEST. W-ilter waited to hear no more, but closed the book and slipped away to his room. Soon he came down stairs, his rubber coiit on his arm. " Uncle," he said, cheerily, " can you take me along too?" " Oh, my boy, you must not go in such a storm. Some fine day you will enjoy going with me." " I don't mind the lain ; I am well fortified against it, you see. And you wiil be sure of having a congregation of one, at least,'" he added, merrily. " If you are bent on going, I am sure I shall be glad of your company," said his uncle. Mrs. Harlcy looked relieved. "I am glad you are going too, Walter," she said. "It will not be so lonely for your uncle." In a few moments she stood at the window, with the baby in her arms, watching them as they drove away. Walter had never been out in 'such a storm before. The road, after cutting across the country for a short distance, followed the sea coast along the top of high cliffs. Here they felt the full violence of .the storm. The rain, blown with violent gusts of wind, came with such force that they felt as though they were in the very midst of the storm cloud. " In fine weather this is a lovely jirive," said Mr. Har- GST. losed the book he came down take me along a storm. Some tified against it, a congregation I I shall be glad 1 glad you are vill not be so t\ts she stood at watching them a storm before, itry for a short ;he top of high ? of. the storm, rind, came with were in the very ," said Mr. Har- WALTKK HARLEYS CONQTrtST. 145 ley. " There is a fine view seaward, and also a pleasant prospect on the landward side.'' Naught of this could even be guessed nt now, as the fog blotted it out c«mj)lctely. So they drove on for five miles. Then the road began to dip down into a hollow, and they found themselves at Ormcs Cove. When they entered the schoolhouse they found three men and a boy. Mr. Harley started a hynm immedi- ately, Waiter took it up, and the three men and the boy joined in ; so there was considerable heartiness in the beginning of the service. Meanwhile, word had gone around that the minii^ter had come ; and before long, tlie congregation numbered a dozen, among whom there were two or three women. Mr. Harley chose for his text the second verse of the thirty-second chapter of Isaiah, " A man shall be as a hiding place from the wind, and a covert from the tempest." At the close of the sermon, opportunity was given — as is customary in country places — for any who so desired to speak or pray. As is usual on stormy days, the few present felt themselves under special obligations, and one and another took part sc "'imply and earnestly, that each Christian heart must have felt it was good to be there. 146 WAI.TEU IIARI.E^'S CO'QUKST. The service ended. M. . Harloy lin-ored. talking with one und an.)th(>r. WuUo! was introduced to Deacon Andrew.- and l.i. wife, and before the good couple left, they P.ado Mr. Iltuley promise that lie and his nephew, together with Mrs. Hurley and the l)ahy, would come the first fine day, and spend the afternoon with thom. Near the door slo..d two men, one a stalwart fishurman, in the prime of life. wl>o was evidently well ac.,uainted with Mr. Harley. He introduced the other, an elderly, weather-beaten uiilor, .is captain son.ebody. Walter coidd not catch the nan\e. « I rec'-ui you are no fair-weather Christian,"' said the stranger to Mr. Harley. After a few piussing remarks, Mr. Harley said: " D-. y'.u not need Jesus as a shelter from the storm ? " " Aye aye. sir.' wa-s the response. Then, as they entered i..to farther conversation, Walter turned away, and wandered about the schoolroom, whose arrangements and fur.ushings looked rude enough to a student of the KnowlLon Academy. The conversation ended, he joined his uncle, and they started on their homeward way. The su>rm had abated, though rain was still falling. " I feel well repaid for comin ; through the storm," said Mr. Harley. " That man with whom I Aras talking m ;il "VT^T^ ST. (I, talking with ed to Deueoii )0(l couplo left, 11(1 hirt ncpliow, vould come the h tiioni. Near ilicTinan, in the etiuuintcd with er, an eUlorly, •body. Walt*!!- istian," said the irley said : " Do storm ? " Then, m thoy 2r tnrned away, ise arrangements a student of the ! uncle, and they A)rm had abated, )ugh the storm," om I Aras talking WAI-TEIl llAUr.KY's COXQUEHT. 147 was a stranger, and was only stopping at Orme's Cove for a few days. He had been feeling anxious aiiout ids soul for some time, and came to the meeting this afternoon with a (lesiri! to receive help. lie saiil the words he had heard seemed just as though spoken for him only. In the conversation we had togetiier afterward, he ()|)ened his mind freely to me, and I have good reason to iiope that he has found the Saviour." " It was worth your while to go througii anything for that," said Walter. Everything looked very pleasant when they returned home. There was a cheerful fire burning in tlie grate, and as they had become (juitc chilled by tiicir long drive in the rain, it was very grateful. Tiic tea table was set, and they were soon enjoying the delicious hot coffee that Mrs. Harley was so skilled in making. " Do you have many wrecks here, vnicle ? " said Walter, next morning at breakfast. "No; there has not been one for years, I believe. There is an old man at Orme's Cove who remembers the last one very vividly ; we must pay him a visit some time. I dare say he would tell you all about it," It happened that the Thursday following was a very fine day ;• so it was decided to go down to Orme's Cove, ,_^^g^. 118 WAI.TKIl HAUI.RY'h CONQITRST. I ? It- !i! i 1 I niul siMJiiil tlio nrtoriiooii, uvniliii},' tlienwclvos of Dtmcon Aiulreww' iiivitiitioii. Tho drive was iiidocd (li-lij^littul. It wiis a \wriWt con- tract to tliat of tlin prwrdiiiK Sunday. On tlic oiio side Htrftt'liL'ateh of dark woods aa framework for the picture. To those accustomed to it the pro8i)ect was a joy ; to Walter, from the tamer scenery of his inland home, it broiii,'ht an ecstasy ho had rarely known. And amid it all, his heart nacended in thankfulness to the All-Father that he hud made the earth so beautiful for us to dwell in. ST. vc« of Deacon 1 II porfoct con- II the Olio side •cri'ntud wuvcs •koiiud by the 10 r side wiw a roeii iiioadoWH, I thero a imtoli lire. To tlioHO [) Wtiltor, fVdin it hroiii^'ht an it all, his iioart lor that lie had 1 in. CHAI^rER XV. MR. FOUD'b HTORY. /\RME'S COVE waa a (iniet, secluded little bay, shut ^ ill oil either side by high cliHa. At its western extremity the land dipped down toward the water, and in this pifturos(iue hollow nestled the little hamlet which bore the same name as the buy. Deacon Andrews wiw out in a field adjoining his house when tiiey arrived. He came to meet them with a hearty welcome. "If you will excuse mo. Deacon Andrews,"' said Mr, Harley, " I will make some calls, now that I am here. I want to go over and see old Mr. Ford, and I think my nephew would enjoy the walk with me." So leaving Mrs. Harley and baby with motherly Mrs. Andrews, they set out to visit Mr. Ford, who lived about a mile away. " What is that strange noise? " said Walter, after they had walked some distance. "What noise? ' asked his uncle. " It sounds like a steam whistle, only more unearthly. There ! now it sounds louder." 149 ^ 160 WALTER HARLEY'S CONQUEST. I ! iiiiili I III " That is old Father Ocean. You shall soon see for yourself." A few steps more, and Mr. Harley left the road and turned into a well-worn footpath. They followed it, the noise growing louder and more weird all the tinie^ till they came abruptly to a deep, narrow ravine. Far be- neath tliem the surging waves came thundering in, and dashed wrathfiuly against their narrow prison walls with a hollow roar, flinging high a column of misty spray. "This is a grand sight in a storm," said Mr. Harley. "You would run the risk of getting a good wetting, though, if you were to stand as near to the edge as we are now." " How I would like to see it in a storm 1 It is grand as it is," said Walter. After watching it for a while they retraced their steps. The highlands now disappeared, and the coast was low, though still rocky. Soon they came in sight of a cottage standing alone in full view of the sea. " That is where our old friend lives," said Mr. Harley. Everything was neatness itself about the little cottage. The small garden in front was filled witli such hardy flowers as could thrive in the cool sea breezes, and morning glories climbed up each side of tlie porch. The walk leading to the door was paved with pebbles Q i ''!ij!!i{|iLL m^ all soon see for t the road and followed it, the ill the timq, till ivine. Far be- ndering in, and rison walls with misty spray, lid Mr. Harley. 1 good wetting, I the edge as we ni ! It is grand aced their steps. B coast was low, ight of a cottage iaid Mr. Harley. the little cottage. ,vith such hardy iea breezes, and e of tlie porch. red with pebbles WALTER HAKI.EY's CONQUEST. 151 from the seashore ; the flower beds were bordered with the same. A knock at the door was soon answered by Mrs. Ford, a pleasant-faced old lady. Her husband sat in a large chair by the fire, nursing a rheumatic leg. After some general conversation about health and so forth, Mr, Harley said : "My nephew was asking me whether wc ever liad wrecks on this coast. I told him you could renjember the last. It Wiis some years ago, wa.s it not ? " "Aye, sir," said the old man; "nigh upon seventeen years ago." " Yes," broke in his wife ; " seventeen years come next November. Oh, but I shall never forget that night! It was an awful night ! ' " And you remember, Betsy, I said that evening, ' What a fearful night to be on the sea ! ' " " Indeed, well do I remember it," said Mrs. Ford. Mr. Ford continued : " By-and-by Betsy said to me, •Abel, what is that noise? ' * Oh,' I said, kind of careless like, ' I guess it is only the waves you hear rolling on the shore.' ' It sounded like a gun,' she said. Now Betsy always was nervous in a storm, and always imagining there were ships in distress ; so I did not think nmch about it. 'There it is again! 'she cried. I heard it t ; ;l 1 " ' i''i i 152 WALTER '; lev's POXQUIiST. this time, and it did sound like a gun ; but I did not want her to get frightened, so I said, * I don't think it's anything but the waves and tlie noise of the wind rattling around the house.' I went to the window, however, and looked out. All was pitcn dark. Suddenly a rocket went up, out by that point down yonder. It just fairly stunned me for a moment to think tliere was a ship in distress so near our home, and on such a night, and on those ugly snarly rocks. Betsy had come to the window, and she saw the rocket too. ' Oh, hurry, Abel,' says she, 'and go down to the shore and see if you can help them I' 'I was just thinking what we can do,' says I ; ' there is no boat that can live in such a sea.' We have no lifeboat. ' Well, do something, quick 1 ' she said, ' or I will go myself.' The very idea of her going out in the storm, who was frightened even to look at it!" "Yes,"' said the old lady, "I am timid enough, I know; but I felt aa though I could do anjrthing to save those poor creatures." "Well," continued the old man, "I said, 'You had better get the fire lit, and have some hot tea and coffee ready ; for the poor things will want something to warm them.' Then I put on my storm coat, and took the lantern ; and mother roused the boys, and two of them ttB««B«nN*aEE««tBCWsBMn -.'.j-^.b. '•*"*Ai<'''t>;«-s"-''' . 'i ■ ■"•- "< * W-'- » -J*?'-*." TP^ EST. but I did not don't think it's le wind rattling V, however, and denly a rocket It just fairly sre was a ship such a night, r had come to i. * Oh, hurry, shore and see inking what we a live in sucli a lething, quick I ' ;ry idea of her 3d even to look nough, I know ; f to save those aid, 'You had tea and coffee 2thing to warm and took the id two of them WALTER barley's CONQUEST.' 153 went with me. When we got out on the road, the first pereon we met was Seth Jones coming up for me. Poor fellow ! he has been dead this many a year ! He was a connection of ours — he married Betsy's cousin ; he was a strong man, and a good soul; there are few like him nowadays. Well, as I was saying, he was coming for me ; and then some of the neighbors — there are not very many — joined us. It seemed as though the road to the point never was so long before as it was that night. "While we were going the clouds cleared away, and by the time we got down there the moon was shining bright and clear ; and there was the ship before us, not a hundred yards from the shore; but between us and them lay those rough jagged rocks, and there was a wild sea, that would knock the strength out of a good swimmer in no time. We could see the decks were black with people. We began to signal to them, and were trying to contrive some way to save them, when there came a fearful crash, and the ship went to pieces. The hinder part keeled over into the water, but the fore part stuck fast on the rocks. I pray I may never see such a si^ht again. It was terrible. There was just one shriek of agony, then it was over for most of them, poor things ! but some were keeping up, battling with the waves, and a few reached the shore with the life almost beaten out -ipp in WALTER barley's CONQUEST. of them. There were still some on the fore part of the vessel, which, as I was saying, was wedged in the rocks. We knew they would freeze if they had to stay there much longer ; for it was a bitter cold night, and the spray dashed over them as they clung to the rigging. The tide was going down now, and we scram- bled out on the rocks until near enough to throw a ro])e to those on the wreck. After they had ma-^.e the rojje fast, we slung a large strong basket over the cable leading to the vessel, fastened two ropes to the basket, one of which we held, throwing the other to those on the wreck ; they then drew the basket up to the vessel, and one by one we drew them over to us. The first to come over was a young woman with a child in' her arms, a little girl about tif^o years old, I suppose ; she had taken off her own shawl to wrap around it. The child was all right enough, but the mother was well-nigh gone. We hoped she would have revived, and carried her into a house near by, — Jim Ryan's, a mere shanty of a place, — but she never spoke, and died in a few hours. I took the child in my arms, and carried it over to our home. It w!is sobbing and fretting like, with its face hid on my shoulder. I brought it in, and said, ' Here, mother, is a little daughter for you.' We had no girls, and mother was always pining for oue. ^ ad, do you believe, when >-s,'i'='-£vv-f?:-:'--^->-.- T^of^wrms. JEST. WAI-TER IIARLEYS CONQUEST. 155 the fore part was wedged in ;e if they had to litter cold night, ley clung to the ', and we scram- ugh to throw a y had nia'^.e the t over the cable 8 to the basket, r to those on the [) the vessel, and rhe first to come in her arms, a I ; she had taken 'be child was all [ligh gone. We ■ried her into a nty of a place, — V hours. I took 3r to our home. i face hid on my ere, mother, is a iris, and mother )u believe, when that cliild saw my wife, it just stretched o'll its little hands and went right to her, and never (retted any more." "Aye, the dear wee thing,' broke in the old dame, " how it went to my heart to have it come so confiding like to me." " Well," continued the old man, " we never could find out anything about her or her family. None of the persons saved knew anything about her mother, except that she was one of the emigrants. Her father was drowned wlieu the vessel broke up, they said. So we just took her for our own, and brought her up. People said we were foolish, and that she might, be put on the parish ; but Betsy and I felt that she was sent to us, and we would share what little we had with her. I gi'ess she always thought that •we were her parents, and the boys were as fond of her as though she was their own sister. One day, when she was well grown, she said : ' I don't know how it is, but I am always frightened in a storm. I feel as though I had been out in one some time, but I can't recollect.' I thought the time had come when she had better know all, and I told her. From that time she seemed as though she could never do enough for us. Such a good girl aa she is ! She is out now taking some work to a lady for whom she sews. Many a time folks say to her, ' Why iiH i'; ■'■< fi a ^r m I 166 WALTER barley's CONQUEST, don't you go up to Ll e city ? You could do better there.' But she says, 'I'll not leave father ana mother while they need nie. I owe everything to them, and all I can do for them is little enough.' ' " I am sure I dont know what the house would be like without her," said Mrs. Ford ; "that storm, dreadful as it was, brought us a blessing which we shall always be thankful for. Here she comes now, I believe." The door opened, and a fresh-faced, pleasant-looking girl entered. It was easy to see what a comfort she must be to the aged and infirm couple, who regarded her with such fondness and pride. The young girl's face beamed with pleasure as Mr. Harley, who knew she was fond of reading and study, promised to lend her soine books. Before leaving, Mr. Harley brought out his pocket Testament and read a few verses, and then offered prayer, after whicli they bade good-bye to the old couple and Margery, and were soon on their way, walking briskly ; for the afternoon was waning, and Mr. Harley was anxious to pay some more visits at Orme's Cove. Walter now left his uncle and went back to Deacon Andrews. Mr. Harley returned just in time '^r tea. They were all entertained hospitably by Mr. and Mrs. Andrews, Baby Paul receiving a large share of attention. After "w- lUEST. d do better there.' lUG mother while 3m. and all I can )use would be like irm, dreadful aa it I shall always be •elieve." , pleasant-looking comfort she must egarded her with jirl's face beamed f she was fond of ■ some books, t out his pocket en offered prayer, 3 old couple and walking briskly ; Mr. Harley was b's Cove, back to Deacon WAi.TEi; HAR)[,EY S CO.\QIJI>T. 157 !H the evening meal some of the neigiibors came in, and a short, pleasant service was held, for the people of Orrae'a Cove had but few meetings to attend. As they were driving home, they agreed they had spent a very pleasant afterno'^:. It was a little break in the week's routine. Mrs. Harley and the baby had been well entertained in the Andrews' home, Mr. Harley had comtf into a renewed closeness of contact nlih some of the humbler of his people, and Walter had been interested in the rugged beauty of the coast, and in the story of the wreck which Mr. Ford hud told. Yes, they had spent a pleasant and profitable afleruoon. I * M tea. They were i Mrs. Andrews, attention. After 1 CHAPTER XVI. PHILIP RAY. SATURDAY morning, as Walter was leisurely stroll- ing along the streets of Fairhaven, he heard a voice behind say : " Walter, how are you ? " " Why, Philip ! " he exclaimed, turning suddenly to meet a familiar face, " how came you here ? " "I am teaching for tiic summer months in a small school about four miles distant. They have been having holidays ; but, as you know, the vacation is sliorter in country schools than in town schools, so I have to go to work Monday ; that is what brings me here. Now, may I ask how you happened to be down this way ? " " I am visiting my uncle, Mr. Harley, who is pastor of a church here." " Oh, yes, 1 know. I did not think about his being your uncle. I am glad we shall have an opportunity to see one another. It is nearly a year since we met." Philip Ray was an intimate friend of AValter. He was three years older, and looked quite manly ; but in spite of the difference in years, they had been warm friends m y \ i^d.,:;,s^.„,.^^^i.mm>i^i(»i it givcH mo to serve my Master. 1 can truly say, ' The love he Iuih kin- dled within mc makes Hcrvice and Hufferinj,' Hweet.' " As the young man 8])(^kc, such a light came into his fiice as Walter had never seen there before. After a moment's jiauso, Philip continued : " There is such reality, such Siitisfaction in it. I used to feel it hard to abstain from worldly amusements which 1 did not think were consistent with a profession of religion; but now they seem so poor — so paltry! I wonder I ever cared for them. Oh, Walter,' turning his dark eyes on his friend, " he that driukcth of the water that Christ gives ' shall ?i«rer third.' I believed it once ; I know it now. ' Walter pondered : Was this the reason for the change in Philij) ? He remembered his friend as he was when at Knowlton ? Philip had always been a good boy, and when he joined the church which he attended no one was surprised ; anc iftcrward he continued on the even tenor of his way, never very enthusiastic, but always in bia I. 162 WALTKU UARLEY's CONQUEST. place at the Sunday and week-day services. Walter felt in a dim way that his friend had gone beyond him into an experience to which he had not yet attained. He did not Jtnow that he had ever felt unsatisfied. Life seemed full of pleasant things, and as yet lie knew not the power- lessness of even tlie best earthly joys to satisfy the deeper longir.gs of the soul. Something like this he said to Philip. " You cannot live long in a world like this,'' replied his friend, " without having felt soul thirst ; and we are all too apt to hew out ' broken cisterns tiiat can hold no water.' But soon we find out our mistake, anC. come back to ' the living foimtains.' " There was a pause for a few moments ; then the con- versation took another turn. Philip began to speak of the hope he cherished of some day going over to Edin- buigh to study. All liis mother's relatives lived iu Scot- land, and he naturally wished to sec them and visit her early home. Walter declared that he would go too, and they built delightful castles in the air of pleasant excur- sions together, and talked about the old country until it seemed to come very near. Philip looked out to sea with a for-f. ay gaze, as though he saw the land of his dreams ; or did his eyes behold another land— a land that is very far ofl'? If the Master . ^■'"•-.^Jlm IT. WALTER HARLEY'S CONQUEST. 163 , Walter felt id him into an ined. He did Life seemed Qot the powcr- Isfy tlie deeper lis he said to I this,'' replied it ; and we are that can hold ake, aiu' come ; then the con- an to speak of over to Edin- i lived id Scot- 1 and visit her iild go too, and pleasant excur- jountry until it gaze, as though lis eyes behold If the Master should call him, was he willing to go there instead of over the ocean? Such were the thoughts that passed through Waltei"'s mind. As he looked on that calm, trustful face, he seemed to hear the answer : " Ready, aye, ready." But he quickly dismissed these thoughts. Philip could not die; he looked the picture of health. Yet Walter knew that he inherited that deadly disease, consumption, of which his father had died. Even at that moment Philip coughed slightly. "We have stayed here too long; you feel chilled," exclaimed Walter. "Oh, dear me, no," said Philip. But he rose, and they turned their steps homeward. Walter's friend was warmly welcomed by Mr. and Mrs. Harley, who invited him to spend every Saturday and Sunday with them while he taught in the neighbor- hood. Philip was very glad to accept the invitation ; for the place where he taught was rather rough, and every- thing was so homelike at the parsonage. Tuesday was a busy day with the Harleys, for the Sunday-school picnic was to be held the following day, and of course Mrs. Harley, who was a teacher, expected to prepare bountifully. Mr. Harley had to go away a short distance for the day on churcu business ; Mrs. Har- ley rose early to get him some breakfast, as lie had to 114 WALTER HARLEYS CONQUEST. leave by the seven o'clock train. She planned to have then a long day in which to do her baking. But alaa, for the " best laid plans " I the middle of the morning found her on a sofa in a darkened room, sufl'ering all the misery of a severe headache; and the young and rather inexperienced servant, Bessie, was left to finisli the baking alone. Somewhat fluttered by not having her mistress at liand to direct, her nervousness was increased when Baby Paul, thinking that he had been good long enough, began to scream, and refused to be pacified. Away up in his room sat Walter, trying to work out anewflm to some puzzles in a religious newspaper. He was so interested that he scarcely noticed the commotion baby was making, till he heard Bessie say : " Oh, baby dear, keep quiet, until I get th^^e pies out of the oven ;" and then he remembered that his aunt was sick, and there was no one to do anything but Bessie. " I wonder if I could help," he thought. " I'll go and see. I sup- pose if I could quiet Master Paul it would be the best thing." He found Bessie looking very flushed and worried, doing the work with the baby on one arm. " Perhaps baby will be good with me," said Walter, taking him somewhat awkwardly. " I believe he would be good if he was to go out in his carriage," said Bessie. ^s^^^y^^^K^»;i*S; ->-* ■ ft-f-i^f^ 1 -!f*r T. nned to have g. But alas, the morning R'ering all the ig and rather to finisli the it having her was increased sen good long pacified, g to work out wspapcr. He he commotion y : " Oh, baby of the oven ;" was sick, and e. " I wonder d see. I sup- Id be the best ' flushed and one arm. " said Walter, go out in his WALTKK HABLEY's CONC^UEST. 165 "All right ; wrap him up, and I will take him." Baby kicked and screamed lustily while his things were being put on, and when at last he was tucked in the carriage, divi not look nearly so trim as when Mrs. Har- ley sent him out. "What's the difference?" said Walter; "I will only take him into the field." When the carriage was once in motion baby quieted down, and by-and-by fell asleep; then Walter brought him back. Bessie drew the carriage into the shade, threw the mosquito netting over it, aud tlieu ran back to work. " My ! it is after twelve. I'll never get through ! " ex- claimed Bessie, in dismay. " Here, give me those raisins ; I will stone tliem for you, while you make the cake," said Walter. Then he whipped the eggs, and finally took his turn at beating up the cake. He grew very interested in hia cake, as he called it, and declared he would write home tt.;>t he had become quite a cook. Baby did not wake until after dinner, or rather lunch, tor Walter said, " Don't bother about cooking dinner for me." Late in the afternoon Mrs. Harley cag. I hope to spend my life in it; not teaching a school like this, though. But even here I have some pupils who iiitcrei't me very much. That tall lad is really very thoughtful." " What — the one who does not seem to know what to with his arms and legs'?" " Yes ; he docs not show to nmch advantage in this cramped schoolroom, and he i? very I'ustic, but I am sure he has the making of a good man in him. And there are other boys not hert; now, in whom I. feel a great interest; and if I have been able to help one to step upward toward anything like nobler id(>as of life, and a true manliood or womanhood, I sliall never regi-et that I spent this summer here." After school, Walter went with Philip to his boarding house. It was truly very rough ; and as Walter con- trasted this abode with the refined, pleasant home to which Philip was accustomed, he wondered more and more how he could put up with it. " What would your mother say if she knew how you are situated here ? " said Waiter. " Well, she does not know ; and I am glad she doesn't. I want to earn all I can to help me through with my studies, for my mother has little enough ; and it is diffi- : ! . r^ i 170 WALTER HAULEY's CONQUEST. cult to get a better scihool wlien one can only teach during the summer months." " At any rate, you can spend Saturday and Sunday with uncle and aunt." " Yea," replied Philip ; " tliough I think, after this week, I shall not spend the whole of Sunday with them. There is a small Sunday-school here, but I found the larger boys did not attend. I gathered a chvss of them, and I do not Avish to give it up ; so I shall walk out here after morning service, to be ready for my class at half- past two." " Philip, how can you deny yourself so much that you like?" said Walter, impetuously. " It is not all self-denial, Walter ; I feel it a privilege to work for the Mjvster, and sow good seed a.s I have opportunity." Walter said nothing ; but his friend's consecration and devotedness made a deep impression on his mind. Ah ! • who can estimate the power of a life wholly for Christ ! Walter's visit was drawing near its close. He had been for some days thinking over a pleasant plan. The Sunday-school connected with his uncle's church was sadly in need of books. Walter thought how much he would like to give something handsome toward getting a library ; but how to do it was the que^tion. He did not • W" i ;an only tench ly and Sunday link, after this day with them, ut I found the I chiss of them, il walk out here ly class at half- much that you el it a privilege seed as I have onsecration and liis mind. Ah ! ly for Christ! close. He had sant plan. The e'a church was t how much he oward getting a m. He did not WALTER HABLEYS CONQUEST. 171 want to ask his father for money, as he wished it to be his own gift. At length a thought occurred to liim. He had begun to save a part of eacli month's allowance, so aa to have plenty to spend on Christmas gifts ; for he delighted to give handsome presents to all his friends. Now the thought came. Could he not devote this money to the Sunday-school, and set brain and hands at work to contrive little inexpensive gifts for his friends, which might be all the more valued because of being his own handiwork ? He l)egan to plan these gifts ; and his uncle, who was clever at devising pretty and useful things in wood, gave him many good suggestions. Walter did not, however, tell his uncle of his intended gift to the Fair- haven school, as he wislied it to be a surprise. The afternoon before he left Fairhaven, he was sitting with his uncle, who was telling him of the difficulties his church had to contend with, the members being for the most part poor, and unable to contribute very much toward its support. « I wish I had plenty of money, I would do so much good with it," said Walter. "Use faithfully what you have; that is all that is required of you now," said his uncle. " Do not wait until you can do great things, but seize every small opportunity of doing good; but that indeed I know you J. I' m • li '-11 'II ' w ^ V-f ..V-^ !^ ^Ts^i.-r-^ ^yj'i 1 EST. ery much wheu ^iiltor, a glow of s's kindly words, wc oaiiuot cttll we a wonderful ore than I used as important as lud patient and I cannot fail to nay be entirely ed from being. mudt be good J sure and build lie back of all ad that you can Brookes into difficulties with , " I cannot see mpany of those WALTKU HARLKY's CONQTIKST. 173 other fellown. I cannot appear to be what I am not, nor seem to think a great deal of a person when I do not." " I think. Walter, your difficulty comes from failing to understand Ned ; and perhaps you not only fail to under- stand him, but do not even try to do so. You dwell on those points in his character which are unlovely, while you entirely overlook the good qualities he no doubt possesses. Perhaps, too, his surroundings and bringing up may have been dilfirent from yours— not so favorable in many respects. This you should take into account, and be more lenient in your judgment." Walter looked thoughtful. " He has not much of a home. His father drinks, and his mother is not one who would have much influence over him, at any rate," he said. "Then how very different is his situation compared with yours. Can you wonder that his views of life are not correct, and his maxims selfish and worldly ? " " I never thought of it in that light before, uncle," said Walter. " If you try to understand liim, putting the best con- struction on his words and actions, you will soon be able to feel kindly toward him, and you will meet, in time, a response; and you are the more bound to do m* •mmmm i,' m^tidmnfmrnt^mimi^ m i j ^t y ^ I r I ''' II I I I 174 WAI-TEfl IIAni-KYS CONQUKST. this when you remember that ho is a young Christiivn brotlicr." " I Bco it 18 my duty," said Walter, " nnd I will try when I get back." And then he sot off to bid g()()d-i)yo to little Jamie, aa he was now speedily to return to his homo. rm EST. ronng Christian " and I will try to bid g<)od-l>yo return to his II -a P 7-f. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) U.A 1.0 I.I i;^ 1 2.8 I- -2 1^ m M 2.2 2.0 1^ J£ 1.8 1.25 1.4 11.6 ■« 6" ' ► V ^ >? .0^ Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 .ri®iS ) f/. CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHM/ICMH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques ■.-.ft- f 1-1- «-% I CHAPTER XVII. THE OLD HOMESTEAD AND THE HOME-COMING. niHE day came for Walter to leave Fairhaven. Tlie J- morning was bright and beautiful ; and away out, as far as one could see, the waves were dancing and sparkling in the sunlight. Walter felt sorry to say good-bye; and as the train bore him rapidly onward, leaving far behiid each famil- iar haunt, he felt that among his pleasantest recollections would be that of his visit to Fairhaven. It wa? about five o'clock in the afternoon Avhen he alighted at a small station for inland, where he found in waiting Jonathan Stubbs, who wurked the small form for the Misses Harley. With him was Carrie, dancing with delight to see her brother. Soon they were driving along the quiet country road in the old-fashioned carriage that had been in tlie fomily for years. The road wound along through pretty scenery, and on every side stretched well-kept and highly-cultivated farms. At length they readied the old homestead. Hi^, aunts were waiting at the door to receive him. Mir^s Matilda, tall and stately ; Miss Constance, delicate and nervous. Dear 175 ii 176 WALTER HARLEY'S CONQUEST. old ladies, how warmly they welcomed him ! How genu- ine their delight to see how tall and fine-looking ho was growing I They ushered him into the drawing room. How cool and quiet and shady it was, with a faint odor of dried rose leaves pervading the air! Yes, it looked ju.st the same, with its handsomely carved mahogany furniture. The quaint little bookcase stood in one corner ; the old piano, that belonged to Grandmother Harley when she was a girl, in another ; the little French clock on the mantel, and the vases and ornaments were placed as they always had been ; and, looking down serenely on all, the })ortraits of the old ladies' father and mother, taken in their youth. Life went on very quietly and methodically in this home, presided over by these two aunts. Tliere was no rush, no hurry. The work was always done, yet no one appeared very busy. It was a veritable haven of rest, where the noise and tumult of the busy outside world never came. There was but little change in the house- hold from year to year. Rebecca, the maid servant, who had grown old in their service, still presided over the kitchen. The two old ladies themselves did not seem to grow older. Active yet in works of benevolence, they might often be seen visiting the homes of the needy or 1 EST. WAI/fEU HAIILKYS CONQUEST. 177 111 ! How genu- -looking lie was ooni. How cool ut odor of dried ; looked ju.-^t the ogany furniture, corner ; the old [arley when she cli clock on the were placed as 3wn serenely on icr and mother, lodically in tliis its. There was Iways done, yet ritable haven of isy outside world ige in the house- e maid servant, :ill presided over ves did not seeiu leuevoleuce, they of the needy or sorrowing, and on Sunday were seldom absent from their j)lace3 iu church. Walter duly answered all his aunts' questions. He was rather amused when they asked him if he would not like to rest after his long journey. Little did he know of weariness ; and he soon proved it by runniug oft" with Carrie to see the household pets, and chasing her all around the jjarden on the way. " What spirits the dear boy has ! " said Miss Constance. " Just like his fitlier, at his age," returned Miss Ma- tilda, her eyes following him admiringly. In tlie evening, when the lamps were lit, the two old ladies wished to have some singing. " It is so seldom that the piano is opened now," they said. So Walter and Carrie sang together, Walter playing the accompa- niments on the piano. " Now we must have a hymn or two to finish with," said Miss ]\Iatilda, producing an old church hymn book. And tliey al". joined in singing. Miss Matilda and Miss Constance had been good sing- firs in their day, though now their voices were weak and quavering. The two aunts were delighted. To them, an evening spent in this way was a pleasant change from the knitting and reading, with which they generally be- guiled the hours. 1 178 WAi/rEK haulky's conquest. " Those old tunes are so mucli sui>erior to the jingling tunes they have now," said Miss Constance. " Don't you think so, Walter ? " " Why no, I don't, aunt," said Walter, frankly. To say the truth, he thought them very slow. " Well, it is natural you should like the tunes you hear nowadays, being young. I suppose I like these because they are the tunes father and mother used to sing ; and we used to sing them in the choir." This led to many reminiscences of old times ; and Walter wondered, as he listened, whether some day he would be telling of the good old times when he was young. As they were sitting at breakfast next morning, Miss Matilda f aid: " You nmst call on INIrs. McLean, Walter. She was inquiring when you were coming, and would, I am sure, be disappointed if you did not go to see her." " I will go this morning," he said in reply. Mrs. McLean was au old friend of the Misses Harley. She had been totally blind for some years, and was so afflicted Avith rheumatism that she could not walk ; yet a more cheerful Christian it would be difficult to find. Walter could remember, when he was a little boy, how he liked to go with his aunt to call on Mrs. McLean, ■«»" KST. ' to the jingling •c. " Don't you it, frankly. To I, e tunes you hear :e these because icd to sing ; and jld times ; and 3r some day he es when he was it morning, Misa /"alter. She was ould, I am sure, her." eply. e Misses Harley. ^ears, and was so not walk ; yet a difficult to find. ft little boy, how on Mrs. McLean, WAT/FER HAKLKY S CONQUEST. 179 who would talk so pleasantly to him, and always give him some nice cake. He set ofl' about the middle of the morning, and soon reached the house, which was half a mile distant. He was ushered into the cheerful sitting room, and there, oitting in an easy chair, supported by pillows, was Mrs. McLean, talking to a friend. She turned her face towaru the door with a bright smile as Walter was announced. • " So ye have come, Walter, my boy,"' she said, with a slight Scotch accent ; "ye dinna forget an old friend. How tall have ye grown since ye were last here ? Why, ye are quite a man," as she raised her hand to his head. "I remember when ye were but so high," letting her hand drop to the arm of her chair ; " and is your hair dark or light, and your eyes, are they blue ? " And so she tried to form a mental jiicture of him ; and then she had many questions to ask hinj about home. Walter asked after her health. " I suffer very much sometimes with the rheumatism ; the last two nights I scarcely slept at all," she replied. "How can you bear it? It must be dreadful! " said Walter. " I think of precious texts and hymns I have learned, and then I almost forget my pain." "Well, Mrs. McLean," said the other visitor, rising, vjfyiiij,^^^v^^^< II 180 WALTER HARLEY's CONQUEST. " I must go now. I lioiH! you will be better of your rheumatism." "Thauk you, Mrs. Lincoln; I trust I may be, if it is God's will. I am sorry you lost so much by the fire. We must believe that all such trials are sent for some good end." " I suppose it is all for the best," replied the lady. " I cannot see it, though." "It might have been worse," said Mrs. McLean, gently. " Oh, it might have been worse. It was bad enough, though, as it was. Well, good-morning." Walter glanced from one to the other. On the one hand, a woman of means, in the enjoyment of good health, fretting over the loss of a small part of her possessions; on the other, the blind, crippled invalid, shut out from all beautiful sights and a constant sufferer, uttering no nuirmur, throwing no chadow over othera. And he felt the great difference between them. " And are ye grown too big, Walter, to take a bit of Jeannie's Scotch cake?" said Mrs. McLean, after the lady had gone. " Never too big for that,'" replied Walter. Mrs. McLean rang a bell, and when the stern-looking maid appeared, said : " Jeannie, just bring in some of the cake ye baked yesterday." - ■■|l!«« btitter of your [imy be, if it is c'h by the fire. sent for some Itheludy. "I leLean, gently. 18 bad enougli, '. On the one •inent of good 11 part of her ippled invalid, nstant sufferer, w over othera. hem. ) take a bit of -lean, after the e stern-looking ng in some of -IP- WALTER habley's conquest. 181 While Walter was eating his cake, he made some inquiries as to the extent of the loss sustained by Mrs. Lincoln, a lady whom he knew to be quite well to do, " One wing of their house was burned a week ago," replied Mrs. McLean, "and she lost some things she valued. I feel very sorry for her ; for she has never had much trouble, and she frets a good deal about it." "I should think she would consider her troubles scarcely worth mentioning in comparison with what you bear," said Walter. " Well, dear, we need the Lord Jesus to hel]i us bear the lesser troubles just as nmch as the greater. It does not do to forget that. I was right glad to hear that ye had taken him for your Friend, Walter. He is a good Frieud ; dinna be afraid to trust him. Bring the little vexations and tangles of every-day life to him, and he •will unravel them and make them plain ; and bring your joys, too — he will make them brighter and sweeter. 'He will make thee exceeding glad with his counte- nance.' " As Walter said good-bye to the old lady, he felt how real must be the Christianity of one who was thus joyful in suffering. He realized, too, how grateful he ought to be for the health and strength he enjoyed, and the bless- ings he too often accepted as a matter of course. -;ws»?5rai-- ~Tp^/S'?KS';^?!W'#Wt'T'?«5SW5S't3-.'K#r;^"'. I ! AJ 182 WALTEn nAni.EY'B COXQITi'.-T. Walter could only spend one day with Iuh uuiits. Tho next louiul liiiu and Currio on their homeward way. It was pleasant to be home again — j)lca.xant to hear mother's gentle voice, as she welcomed them in ; jjlcawant to see father's bright face, as he said : " Well, it i.s good to have the children home again." liertlia diuiccd about for joy, and even Winnie joined in the glee and lauglicd merrily. Cousin Flora looked much better and hapi)icr, Walter thought, and was as pleased aa any one to welcome them back again. She was indeed better, and able to help IMrs. Harley in many ways ; for the summer was a busy time at Elmwood. Every morning Flora watered the house plants, and arranged fresh flowers in the rooms ; often, too, making up a bouquet, or filling a basket with fruit for some friend, to whom Mrs. Harley thought it would be acceptable. Flora was to leave in a week or two, but Walter no longer found her stay wearisome. They were out, one pleasant afternoon, in the phaeton, driving along a shady road. Walter had grown quite used to the slow pace ; and " Fan," the horse, seemed to prefer it on these hot August days. " It is too bad you have to t' 've so slowly, Walter," said Flora. " I shall soon be gone, and then you will have a fine time." ■;-T. liiH aunts. Tho iWiird way. Icusaiit to lioar (in in ; i)l('a«ant Well, it i.s >,'oo(l 111 diuieed ahout lee and laughed liap])icr, Walter ) wcli'onie them blc U) help Mrs. ms a busy time tered the house le rooms ; often, askct with fruit hought it would ivcck or two, but me. , in the phaeton, lad grown quite horse, seemed to slowly, Walter," id then you will WAT.TETl HAULKY's CONQUEST. 183 "Oh, I don't mind," said Walter; "and I dare say ' Fan ' prefers it." "Perhaps so," said Flora. "'It is nn ill wind that blows nobody good.' Do you know, Walter, I ean never bo thankful enough fov coming here this summer? I am a great deal better in health ; but that is not all— I have found Jesus, and life is m changed. It is so much easier to bear any suflering I h""e— and I do really feel very miserably sometimes. But now I have One to whom I can tell all my troubles, and he always helps me." " I am so glad," said Walter. " I thought you looked much happier." " Indeed I am. I was so miserable, so unhai)i)y whc:i I came. I wanted to come here rather than go anywhere else, because I knew your father and mother were t'liris- tians, and I thought perhaps I might get some good ; and every day I longed more and more to have the peace an»■■ f M«»WiMMM|MM»«PH*M rKST. I all my notions. II Christian boy, o." iiiiytliinji;," said uiyway." )iitiiiue(l Flora, nic, hut 1 know ia bright to mo ike, ho did not of luii)|»ineHs at I another toward CHAPTER XVIII. NEW INFLUENCES. THE hot August days passed away, and now camo tranquil, dreamy Scjrtcmber. The weather during the first week proved so delightful that some of the young .people came to the conclusion that they must have a picnic. The Harringtons were the chief movers in the matter; Walter also worked hard to get it up, and the anticipations of all were raised to a very high pitch re- garding the pleasures they would enjoy. These anti(!i- pations wore in a large measure realized; but mingled also with the experiences of the day was that which brought something quite new and ultimately very help- ful to Walter. The day of the picnic was sultry, and in the afternoon clouds gathered. The young people all enjoyed them- selves very much, and scarcely noticed the gathering clouds, till, while they were making merry over the bountiful repast spread by the girls, a distant rumble of thunder warned them of an approaching storm. They hastily packed the baskets, and started for the boats and canoes. They reached a place of shelter just as the first 186 i^ im WALTER HARLEY S CONQUEST. drops were falling, so the girls escaped a wetting; but those of the boys who had to secure the canoes, etc., were thoroughly drenched, Walter among the number. It was 8onie time before they could start ou their homeward way, and he reached home completely worn out. In the morning he felt stiff, and ached a good deal, but had a merry story to tell of their adventures. As the days passed on, however, he did not by any means enjoy his usual good health. One afternoon he came home from school feeling par- ticularly wretched : his back ached and his head ached. He was quite disgusted to think he should only feel fit to lie on the sofa. He pulled out his books, and resolved to study his lessons, so that he could go to bed early ; but it was no use. When the tea bell rang he hardly felt strong enough to go down; but, as his father and mother were away spending the day with friends, he thought he must take the head of the table. "What is the matter, Walter?" said Carrie ; ''you don't seem a bit like yourself" " I have such a headache. I shall go to bed as soon aa tea is over," he "plied. It seemed lonely without mother. He began to grow impatient for her return. He went up stairs and lay down, but did not feel any better. His head grew very hot, V lUEST. (1 a wetting; but canoes, etc., were ! number. It was their homeward vorn out. :;hed a good deal, adventures. As lot by any means ihool feeling par- 1 his head ached, lould only feel fit oks, and resolved JO to bed early; rang he hardly IS his father and with friends, he ble. arrie; ''you don't to bed as soon aa 3 began to grow irs and lay down, grew very hot. WAI.TEn HART.Ers CONQUEST. 187 and he tossed about restlessly, and his desire for his motlier increased as his fever heightened. How eagerly we turn to mother when ailments or troubles come ! And for her touch at such times the passing of the years scarce diminishes our longing. When Mrs. Ilarley came home, she went to Walter's room to see if he was up. She found him in a high fever, tossing from side to side, and nmttering incolierently. He roused a little when his mother spoke to him. He remembered afterward that, in reply to her anxious inquiries, he had tried to tell her how ill he felt, but was not sure that he said exactly what he meant. Then he remembered seeing the family doctor, and he knew he must be very ill. He had an indistinct idea that his father was in the room all night ; that his mother was in and out, and that he took medicine ; and then he saw the doctor's grave face again, as he bent over him and felt his pulse; and all was mixed up with strange dreams. . By-and-by tlie fever left him ; and then how weak he felt, so unlike the Walter of two weeks before. He had scarcely ever known what it was to be ill, and it was u trying experience for him. He began to feel a real sympathy for Cousin Flora, and thought how dreadful it must be to feel 80 wretchedly all the time. . .afeUb^^iife^iftptft 188 WALTEB HAELEY's OOXQTTE8T, He did not feel much better when he was able to get down stairs. He was so languid and listless — easily irri- tated, and worried if the little ones made a noise, or were fretful ; and he often dolefully wondered if he ever would be strong again. It was quite humiliatmg to him to find out how much of his good temper and sunny disposition had been the result of perfect health. Perhaps it was a lesson he needed to learn, especially at this time ; for when he was away he was such a favorite that he re- turned home with quite a good opinion of himself. So, in thinking of himself, he had gotten away from his Saviour. Now, in his weakness, he turned eagerly to the Rock of hia strength. He was very grateful too, that in him he found refuge, and that in clinging to his promises there was no lack of rest. The Lord had indeed been to him a very present help. " Was I dangerously ill, mother?" he asked, one day when he was strong enough to talk. " Yes ; the doctor thought you seriously ill that night, and for a day or two we felt great anxiety. It would have been so hard to give you up, darling; but God spared us that trial." " Do you know, mother," said Walter, after a pause, " I was so glad when I was so ill to know that it was all right with me whatever happened. I thought how fQTTEST, a he was able to get listless — easily irri- ade a noise, or were ■ed if he ever would atmg to him to find d sunny disposition Perhaps it was a r at this time ; for avorite that he re- on of himself. So, en away from his rned eagerly to the rateful too, that in ■ing to his promises had indeed been he nfiked, one day •usly ill that night, mxiety. It would darling; but God ter, after a pause, low that it was all I thought how 't^ WALTER HAniiEY's CONQUEST. 189 dreadful it would be if I had never thought of religion before, and had to seek Christ then, when I was so wretched and distracted that I could scarcely put two ideas together." " Yes, indeed, dear," replied his mother, " if, when in health, you trust and love Jesus, your motto will be, •Ready, aye ready ' — ready to live for him, ready to die, if that should be his will. And the way to be ready to die is to live for him. He who has given us grace for the one will not fail us when the other comes. His rod ar.d his staff will comfort then, as tl.ey help now." Now that Walter was beginning to feel better, he wished for something to occupy his time; so he was very pleased to receive a kind letter from Flora, with a number of Christmas and New Year's cards which she had collected, and now sent to him that he might fill a scrap album for sick Jamie ; and Walter found it quite an amusement to arrange them, and paste them in. The days seemed to Walter to pass very slowly ; but gome of the boys came up nearly every day to see him, and this made a pleasant diversion. There was one, however, who never came even so much as to inquire after him, and that was Ned Brookes. What was the reason? Ned was friendly enough after the holidays; 190 WAI.TKR HAULEy's CX)N'QUEST. indeed, rather pleasanter than usual. Walter felt liurt by it ; then he remembered that Ned was somewhat diffi- dent, and perhaps had inquired of tlie other boys. But when he went back to school, and Ned greeted him as indifferently as though he had never been absent, Walter felt the slight, or what ho deemed the slight, keenly. " How can I care for him, when he cares so little for me ? " he thought. " At any rate, I can make no advances." So the gulf between them widened. About this time Walter formed a new acquaintance. Lawrence Orine, a nephew of Judge Harrington's, had lately come to Knowlton to study law. He was, of course, frequently at his uncle's, and was soon introduced to Walter. Lawrence Orrae was an agreeable young man, of polished manners, easy in conversation, and withal very intelligent. He read largely ; and was a keen observer of men and things. He kept himself well informed on all the topics of the day ; and, as he had plenty of lively wit, his conversation was at once interesting and amusing. Lawrence was undoubtedly clever ; and many predicted that he would make his mark in the world. Walter admired him. Lawrence soon perceived that, and it pleased him ; so the two became friends. Walter liked companionii older than himself, and was always QUEST. Walter felt hurt was somewhat diffi- e other boys. But ed greeted him as ever been absent, deemed the slight, when he cares so y rate, I can make em widened, new acquaintance. Harrington's, had law. He was, of as soon introduced ! young man, of n, and withal very 18 a keen observer ' well informed on id plenty of lively iting and amusing, d many predicted irld. on perceived that, ! friends. Walter , and was always WALTER UARLEYis CONQUE-ST. 191 very much influenced by them. Lawrence liked to gain power over others — to influence them to think and act as he did. It was no wonder, then, that he soon began to have an influence over Walter. Was his influence for good? Often Mrs. Harley questioned this within her mind. Once she mentioned her doubts to her husband. " Why, Alice," he replied, " I feel very much pleased at the friendship between them. There can be nothing against Lawrence ; he is moral and high-minded, and then he is intelligent and refined. He is just the one for Walter, now he is growing into manhood." Mrs. Harley sighed. " There is something about him," she said, "that leads me to distrust him. I cannot help feeling that there is that connected with him which he would not have us know. I fear he will not help Walter's Christian life." " Oh, as to that," returned Mr. Harley, " he may not be a decided Christian. I do not know that wo can judge about that, either. I think he has Christian senti- ments ; and I am sure he would not hinder, if he does not help. Have you ever heard him give expression to any views to which you would take exception ? " " No," said Mrs. Harley, hesitatingly, " I cannot say that I have ; but there is something about him which I cannot define that I do not like." "-W rMM^}fM&MM^d:UK.i!i-^Mi'smii' 192 WALTKR HARI.EYS CONQUEST. " You are over anxious, Alice ; if Walter always has as good associates, I sliall be perfectly satisfied. " Mrs. Harley said nothing more ; but she wa-s not satis- fied. With her woman's quick instinct, she felt rather than knew that Lawrence Orme's influence would be directly opposed to true Christian living ; and she was right. Lawrence was very careful and guarded in his remarks before Mr. and Mrs. Harley, but in the presence of his young friends he often put forth very unorthodox ideas. It was true he was moral, and would be counted religious by some, since he always attended church once on Sunday ; but though he observed outward forms, he had never submitted his heart to God, and j)referred to guide his life by his own maxims rather than by those laid down in Scripture. Walter had learned that " all Scripture is given by inspiration " ; but Lawrence very coolly set aside what- ever did not suit his own ideas. His idea of life was to have as good a time as possible ; and consequently he ridiculed the idea of denying one's self for others good. As might be expected, he had little sympathy with the great moral reforms of the day. For himself he could keep clear of gross evils, and if others were too weak to do so, BO much the worse for them ; he did not see why people should make such a fuss about it. In fact, to live an •UEST. 'c WALTER HARLEY'S CVDXQUEST. 193 liter always has as sfied." slie wa-s not satis- ;t, she felt rather fluence would be ng ; and she was d guarded in his ut in the presence 1 very unorthodox would be counted nded church once outward forms, he , and j)referred to her than by those ipture is given by lly set aside what- 3 idea of life was i consequently he f for others good, ympathy with the iself. he could keep too weak to do so, ot see why people [n fact, to live an ea nest, Christian life was in Lawrence's eyes to be a fanatic, while the sensible people, in his estimation, w^-.t those whose religion did not hinder them from living a thoroughly worldly life. In spite of the views he enter- tained, Lawrence could aduiire a good sermon, would speak enthusiastically of some passages of Scripture; but when it came to " whatsoever he saith unto you, do it," his proud spirit would not bow in submission. Walter was not long in finding out Lawrence's opinions. He of course did not agree with them, and often told him so. Yet he found himself more and more, as the days went by, thinking with regard to every action, "What would Lawrence think of this, and wliat would Lawrence say about th^ other ? " Indeed, Law- rence's influence over him might be seen in many ways. After Walter's return from Fairhaven he had, at Lina's request, attended a mission service, held at four o'clock on Sunday afternoon, in a poor part of the town. He went to take the place of the organist, Miss Dawson, who was away on her vacation. He became interested in the work there, but after his illness he did not feel strong enough to go. Then he became acquainted with Lawrence, and from that time began to lose interest in the mission and its work. Once, not very long after their acquaintance, Walter was spending the evening at N 194 WALTER HARLEY'8 CONQUEST. the Harrington's. Lawrence waa there, and also Louise Anncsly, a gay, lively girl of sixteen, who was visiting the family. In the course of conversation, Lawrence said: " For my part, I do not care for those young men who spend their time teaching poor children in mission schools, and all that sort of thing. They may be well enough in their way, but I do not care to have anything to do with them. They are not after my style, I assure you. They may be sincere, but I cannot understand them ; it seems to me it is not natural for any one to do as they do." Walter would have expressed a contrary opinion if any one other than Lawrence had uttered such words. As it was, he kept silent, and felt secretly glad that he was not going now to the Stoneway Mission. It was not a very manly thing for him to do, and was little like the Walter of a short time before. It showed how well founded were his mother's fears. " I think that kind of young men just splendid," said Mary, her bright eyes flashing. " Is it not better to use one's time and talents to help others upward, than to live only for self ? For my part, I think so, and I admire any one who does it.' As she looked then, her admira- tion was something any one would value; and Walter f, and also Loiiige who was visiting sation, Lawrence e young men who Idren in mission hey may be well to have anything my style, I assure mnot understand for any one to do ntrary opinion if ;tered such words, •etly glad that he 3sion. It was not was little like the showed how well ist splendid," said b not better to use )ward, than to live so, and I admire then, her admira- alue; and Walter WALTER IIABI.EV'S CONQUEST. 195 was not insensible to the influence her brave stand exerted. "I think they could not help very much the little urchins I see coming out of some of the schools," replied Lawrence. " Time and tulpjits are thrown away on tliem, in my opinion. Give me the jolly fellow that enjoys lifp, and is always ready, of course, to give a helping himd to another when in need ; he is worth a dozen of your 'goody goody' young men, who would rather go to prayer meeting than to the theatre, and spend their time after business looking up poor young ones in dirty tene- ments to go to Sunday-school." " That is exactly what I think, Mr. Orme," exclaimed Louise Annesly ; and a little laugh followed, indicating how extremely funny she thought it that there should be such young men, or that she should have anything to do with them if there were. " The young men whom I know engaged in such works are very far from being ' goody goody,' " said Mary. " They are always ready for any sensible amusement. I think it is grand to see a young man an out-and-out, earnest Christian." Mary's cheeks flushed as she spoke, and there was a slight tremor in her voice. Walter knew it had cost her some efibrt to say what she did. It seemed to him that her action was as brave ifr -fm' -ni*-: te^-^^^^^Jg?**/ ■.*'^:is:^i?-^/r. 196 WAI/rKR IIAni.EY 8 CONQUK8T. ns his WM oownrdly, that alio should Hi)oiik while he re- niiiined niient. But sonieliow he felt tlmt he couhl not BjH'ivit, much jiH hiH conscience smote him. Lawrence Biiid notiiinjr. There was Homotliinj,' in Mury'a carncflt words that silenced his flippant remarks. - « " Come, Miss Louise," he said, anxious to turn the Buhjcct, " we were to have some nmsic, were we not? I believe you promised to sinj^ for me." Miss Louise could not rememher any such promise, and required considerable persuasion before she would allow herself to be le««■•«; :«s-i:'J.'i>>- •TSrSTT 'fmMif'm'iif^i^^ 198 WAI-TKB HAUI-KYH OON^UBST. her friends beciuiHO they Jmppened to be poorly dressed?" He felt Mirc she would not. " IJnt then Linii in »o k"»"<1." he Huid to hl.iwelf "She does not feel like other folks." Liini oiunc up witli a plciwiint, cheery word, iind'Walter was (,'liid to Hec licr. It en'eiauully turned his thoughts into other ehiinnelH. " I uni HO glad I mot you, Walter," exclaimed Lina, na they went out of the store together. " T see you so Bcldom of late. \\v. are going to have a social next Wednesday evening for the peoi)le of Stoneway Mission, and we shall have music, and readings, and refresh- uienta ; and I have been wanting so to see you to lusk you to sing something for us." Walter was in a penitent mood just then, and anxious to do something to satisfy his conscience; so be quite readily consented. He was by no means pleased with his conduct of late. He would like to be at peace with himself if the cost were not too great. " A\e want to gain a hold on our young people in the mission,' said Lina ; " and we thought it would be pleas- ant to have a social evening for them. We .hope to get more of them to attend our mission school. You will do what yon can to help us, will you not? You are just the one ; you are so easy and sociable." " I cannot promise. In fact, I do not think I have UBST. poorly drcBsed?" liiiui is 81) ),"""'>" Ukv. olluT folks." tvord, and* Walter uud hid thuugiitd schiiuicd Lina, as " T SCO you 80 ivo a social next ^toneway Miss^iou, n;,'8, and refresh- to see you to ask then, and anxious snce; so he quite jans pleased with ) be at peace with mg people in the it would be pleas- We .hope to get lool. You will do You are just the not think I have WAI-TKU lIAIUiEY'ri CONQUKST. 1!»1) any talent in that line," returned Walter, wlio wiw afraid of comniittlng liiinHclf too fully to thin nuMsion work. " When are you goinu to help us sing agiiiii at our Sunday ailernoon service ? " " IVriiapft sonic time," reiiliod Walter. " I do not feel Btrong enough yet. You cannot imagine how tired I am after Sunday-school ! " This was quite true ; for Walter WU8 not as strong 08 he had heon bifore his illness. Yet his disinclination to go was so great that he could not help feeling glud that ho had so good an excuse for staying away. " What is the good of this mission work, anyway?" he • continued. "These people are surrounded by so many bad influences that you cannot expect them to be much benefited by the little time you and others can devote to them. It nmst be almost impossible for them to be Christians who»e everything is against them. It would almost seem that one had better spend Lis time and work where there is more promise of results. AVork among such people must be discouraging, to say the least." " Why, Walter," said Lina, quite surprised, " you are forgetting the divine side of the question. ' What is im- possible with man is possible with God.' It is only his grace that enables any one to live a Christian life, how- 200 WALTER HARLEY's CONQUEST. ever favoraI)ly situated ; and that grace is sufficient in all circumstances. For my part, in spite of all the diffi- culties we meet with in our work, I have not felt »o dis- couraged as in trying to work among the pleasure-seeking, gay butterflies of richer circles." Lina looked rather sadly after Walter, as they parted at her door. Ilis indiffp'-once pained her; and without hesitation .sho connected that indifference with one per- son, and that person was Lawrence Orme. Two or three days after this, Walter met Lawrence. " By the way," said Lawrence, in the course of their conversation, " who was that countrified-looking chap with you when I met you on Saturday ? " " Oh, one of the boys," returned Walter, careles. '7. "And who was your chum ? " " Oh, a fellow that has some style about him — Mr. St. Clair. He is a lucky one ; as he is a gentleman of leisure. He is here on a pleasure trip, and is stopping at the Staunton House. I am going to see him now. I shall not be long. Come with me. He is a very nice fellow, and I should like you to meet him." , They very soon reached the hotel, and were at once shown up to Mr. St. Clair's room. That young man was reclining in an easy chair, smok- ing a cigar, and reading a novel. He received his vis- tUEST.. ,ce is sufficient in ite of all the diffi- ve not felt »o dis- ) pleasure-seeking, er, as they parted her; and without nee with one per- me. ' . ; - met Lawrence. ;he course of their fied-looking chap ?" Valter, careles/;'. about him — Mr. is a gentleman of ip, and is stopping I see him now. I le is a very nice lim." , They very )nce shown up to easy chair, smok- 3 received his vis- ' ■f i fjiMWJjM i einf-w"" * «- ■ WALTER hartley's CONQUEST. 201 H^ iters very pleasantly; and, of course, after the first greetings, ortbred them cigars, which Lawrence accepted, but Walter declined. "You have not begun to smoke the weed yet, Mr. Harley ? " said Mr. St. Clair. " That pleasure is in store for you, then." •• ' • '; i' ■: "My young friend has some conscientious scruples about smoking, I believe,' said Lawrence, lightly. " But he will get over that in a year or two." " Oh, yes, he must indeed," sa,id Mr. St. Clair. " It would never do not to smoke cigars, at least. Come, make a beginning now, won't you ? " he continued, per- suasively. " I would rather not, thank you," said Walter. But his cheeks began to burn, and he felt very uncomfortable. ' It had always been easy for him to stand out against smoking among the boys at school, where he was a leader, but here it was a different matter. His companions evi- dently thought him very odd for refusing. He began to wish himself away. Lawrence and Mr. St, Clair puffed away, and talked, and seemed quite to forget Walter, who felt as though he were counted by them as a mere boy. A half hour passed before Lawrence made any move to go. At length he rose. " Mr. Harley lives at Elmwood, the place you admired 202 WALTER HARLEY's CONQUEST. BO much. We passed it on Saturday, you remember," said Lawrence. " Ah, yes ; a delightful place," said Mr. St. Clair. Walter, of course, invited him to call with Lawrence. " I shall be delighted," replied Mr. St. Clair. And so they parted. Walter was by no means comfortable. He seemed to himself to be drifting still fartlier from what after all he most valued. He had not forgotten the conquest he had resolved' to make, but just now it seemed imperiled. Ari Walter was walking rapidly home, he almost ran against Mary Harrington, who was coming out of a store. " Walter Plarley," she said, as they walked on together, " you have been smoking.'' "Not I," said Walter. "But I have been cooped up in a room for half an hour with two fellows who were." " Cousin Lawrence ?" said Mary. " Yes, and his friend, Mr. St. Clair." " Lawrence is such a coniirnied smoker," said Mary. " I don't like it a bit. I think it is horrid. I am so glad you are against it." " It is hard, though/' said Walter, " to take a stand against a usage so common. Perhaps I feel it more diffi- lUEST. , you remember," Vlr. St. Clair. 1 with Lawrence. 5t. Clair. And so cans comfortable, still farther from had not forgotten ke, but just now it me, he almost ran coming out of a ralked on together, lave been cooped i two fellows who loker," said Mary, rrid. I am so glad p, " to take a stand I feel it more diffi- WALTiiR HARLEY S CONQUEST. 203 cult now than I will wlien I am older. It seems singular not to do lis otliers do ; and one does hate to be singular, especially when so many think it a harmless habit." " Yes, worldly people think many things hariidcss that are not so. But I cannot see how any one who is a fol- lower of Jesus can indulge in such a habit. And it is better to win the approval of our Master than that of the world, is it not, Walter?" " I am afraid I fcjrgot that this afternooUj or I would not have found it so difficult to say ' No ' I have too often been ashamed lately to show myself on tlic Lord's side. You do not know how much you helped me by your words the other evening." " Did I ? " said Mary. " I am glad I helped any one." • " Yes, and you have helped me this afternoon. I tell you, Mary, if there were more girls like you, who would always speak out on the side of everything that is good and pure and noble, there would be more fellows who would try to live right." "Would there?" said Mary. "Well, I am sure I always will." Then she Avent on to tell Walter that her father was going to send her to a ladies' college in the spring ; and she felt as though that would be a beginning of the preparation for her life work. '■i ^"S.>iaiW#J^ia 'S ^<:8J3»!4,-"NciLj..:<.U' ' 1 204 WALTER HABLEY's CONQUEST. Walter felt a natural regret at the thought oi losing so pleasant a companion. He realized too, more than Mary did, that they would never be boy and girl together again. And who could tell how far apart their lives might be I I ■ [QUEST. • ihought of losing so 10, more than Mary and girl together r apart their lives CHAPTER XIX. • " THE CRICKET CLUB. AS winter came on Walter became involved in a round of parties and social entertainments that quite put all thought of other things out of his mind. " Walter," said his mother, one evening, " could you not go to prayer meeting to-night? It is a long time since you have been there." " I could not, indeed, to-night, mamma, I have so many lessons to study. Perhaps I will go next week." " How is it that your lessons never trouble you when it is a question of going to some place of amusement ? " said his mother, quietly. " Now, mother, surely I would not be a natural boy at all if I only went to prayer meetings. I would be like the boys in the Sunday-school books — too good to live." " Did I say you were to go only to meetings, Walter ? You know full well that I wish you to enjoy all that is worth enjoying ; but how is it when your amusements, or so-called recreations, take up so much of your time and strength, that you never can go to prayer meeting ? " " To say the truth, I would make more effort to go if 206 '';fej^sa*:.xsife^iirtsftg^ 206 WAL'i'ER barley's CONQUEST. they were not so dull," returned Walter. " They are not half so interesting as they were. You know how ii is, mother. About the same ones take part at each meet- ing ; there is very little variety in the prayers, and the singing usually is anything but inspiring, to say the least. And then you know there are so few who attend." " Yes, I know. But are you sure that the change ia not somewhat in yourself? Our good pastor always says encouragint' helpful words. If there are not many to hear them, could you not bring some of the absent ones back again ? If only a few take part, it is all the more reason why you should go and say a few words." " Well, the fact is, I don't care to speak, for I do not always act just as I should— that is, I am not perfect, you know ; and I think I will have more influence over some if I do not take such an open part. Some have a preju- dice against such things." ; ft His mother made no reply. After a few moments' silence, she said : " How are you getting on about the cricket club ? Do you expect to have one next summer ? " "Yes,'- replied Walter, growing animated at once. " We will certainly have one then. We mean to talk it up this winter." " Oh, you intend to speak your views out openly, do Jl lUEST. r. " Tliey are not u know how ii is, jart at each met^t- ', prayers, and the ig, to say the least, ho attend." hat the change is od pastor always lere are not many me of the absent part, it is all the y a few words." peak, for I do not n not perfect, you fluence over some ame have a preju- a few moments' ricket club ? Do limated at once. Ne mean to talk re out openly, do WALTEa HAULEY's CONQUEST. 207 you ? " said his mother. " Would you not have more influence over those who do not favor the idea by taking a neutral stand ? " Walter looked at his mother comically. " Now, mother, it is too bad to catch me in that way. I really ought to be studying this lesson. I will think up an answer to your question by to-raorrow.'' And Walter buried himself in his books, while his mother left the room, and in solitude poured out her anxieties before that Heavenly Friend who had proved a present help through all her life, pleading that her only son might live a life that should be wholly consecrated to the service of Christ. She had become very sensible of the change in Walter. She knew too, whence that change had largely come, and that she had not been at fault in the estimate she had formed of Lawrence Orme's charac- ter and influence. What remedy to apply was not so clear. And so her anxious mother heart carried her boy to him from whom wisdom is promised, and whose grace is ever present in the time of need. That cricket club came to the front again in Walter's mind, and he began to urge it upon his classmates. The boys : oon became enthusiastic, and a meeting was called for orgBnization. Much to^Walter's disappointment, when the night of ■ m^ 11 ^-.N»;.'/a'!^^;a-MM^iHW'ajhj4.'iiAJij^iit,.^-iiA:.w.M;^t' i' ^ai, '' '^i^l' i-X-'-ii- TU-.i'.- 208 WALTER HARLEY's CONQUEST. the meeting ^•'^o, he »va8 unable to be present, na he had a severe sick headache. He could not go to school the next day, and awaited with impatience news of the doings of the previous evening. Bennie Harris came up in the afternoon. " Wh vt news about the cricket club? " said Walter. " Oh, it is formed nil right," replied Bennie. "Arthur Somers is president, and you have been made secretary and treasurer." It must be confessed that Walter was surprised and considerably disaj)j)ointed to find that he had not been chosen president. He said nothing, however, and Bennie continued : " I do not see why you could not act' as president. I am sure almost all the boys wanted you, and we ex- pected you to be." "Well, I could not act as president unless I was chosen, you know, Ben," said Walter. " Why, you would hav been, only Ned Brookes was canvaasing for Arthur, and he told the boys that you had said to him that you did not wish to be presi- dent ; that you would not be able to attend the meetings regularly." " I never said any such thing," said Walter, an angry flush coming into his cheek. " I do not know what Ned ^ [QUEST. ! preseut, aa he had t go to school the ence news of the iiinic Harris came ? " said Walter. Bennie, "Arthur sen made secretary was surprised and : he had not been wever, and Bennie ; act" 08 president, d you, and we ex- ient unless I was Ned Brookes was the boys that you wish to be presi- ttend the meetings . Walter, an angry 3t know what Ned sto'r r^ WALTER barley's CX)XQUE8T. 209 means by saying so. But then it is of a piece with the unfriendliness he h?8 shown toward me lately." " I did not bclievj you ever said that. I was sure you would be willing to act as president." " I remember now," said Walter, " that one day, when I was feeling so wretchedly after I had the fever, some one mentioned the cricket club, and I said, ' You will have to go ahead now, Arthur, I do not feel able.' Ned Brookes was standing by ; but he might have known better than to suppose that I felt in that way now. It was just an excuse, no doubt. He does not like me." " He said Arthur Somers would not lead us into so much expense as you would." " Oh, what nonsense I As though I could do anything without the consent of the club. I suppose Ned thinks that he can easily make Arthur do anything he wants him to. Arthur is too easily led one way or the other to make a good president. Well, it relieves me of a good deal of responsibility ; so I don't mind." But he did mind, and kept brooding over what he termed Ned's meanness. Walter had been foremost in promoting the formation of the club. Not unnaturally, he expected to be president ; and it was hard to see another, whom he honestly believed would not do so O r^nmmmmm 210 WALTER IIARLEY's CX)NQUEST. well, put in the post of honor. When he told Lina about it, she placed the subject in a new light. " I thought you would have been president," she said ; "but, after all, it is better that it is Arthur, is it not? He is very diffident, you know, and lacks confidence in himself. It will bring hiui out ; and I have no doubt he will do well." "He may, if he does not listen to Ned Brookes." " But is it not well that there is some one for president who will listen to Ned ? Has he not as much right as others to express his views ? and ought not his opinions to have some weight ? " " Yes, if they were not so queer." " Perhaps he thinks the same of your ideas." " No, he just opposes for the sake of it. He is growing as disagreeable and selfish as he can be." He did not think just then that his bearing toward Ned had possibly something to do with their relations. I'srhaps, too, Walter would have felt difierently if he could at that moment have joined Ned and Mr. Har- rison, who were walking together, and could have over- heard their conversation. " It is no use trying any longer ; everything is going to wreck and ruin in our house, and all through drink." Ned spoke in a hard, bitter tone. " I suppose," he con- QUEST. hen he told Lina sw light. csidcnt," fthe said ; Arthur, is it not? icks confidence in I have no douht ed Brookes." D one for president , (18 much riglit as it not his opinions ir ideas." ' it. He is growing !." lis bearing toward th their relations. t differently if he ed and Mr. Har- could have over- erything is going 1 through drink." suppose," he con- WAI.TKR HAUI.EV 8 CONQUEST. 211 tinned, "they all tliink nie a cross-grained mortal; but pcrliajw some of the otiiers would bo no better than I am if they wore placed in the same circuinHtanccs. It is easy enough to be good-natured when everything is pleanant around one. There is Walter Hurley. He has every- thing he wants. His father is highly thought of, and be has a good chani;e in life. Of course, it is easy for him to be agreeable. He is never very pleasant to me, though." "To tell the truth,'" Mr. Harrison said, "you and Walter misunderstand one another. He is hurt because you are cold and distant toward him ; and now, I think, he feels aggrieved because you opposed the formation of a cri'^.et club." For Ned had not at first been in favor of such a club. " Well, I would have liked a cricket club as well as any one, only I knew it meant exjxinse ; and wc have no money to spare — not a cent ; for father is getting deeper in debt all the time, and I do not know how it is going to end." The gloomy look that Ned so often wore deep- ened. " I used to hope father would reform : I have given that up long ago. I do not see why I am placed where everything is against me. Il is hard to live right with such influences around one. I feel sometimes as though I would give up trying. I have wanted to do -m' 212 WALTKU iiarlwv'h conqitkst. right niul be a triio iiuin, and I wiint to now ; but some- times it HeetiiH oh thoii^'h I iiiiglit us well give up." " Come, Ned, you imist not bo so discouraged," said Mr, IIiirriHoii. "Your difficulties miiy become liel[)fl to you if you meet them in the right way. Tlio trials that boset you are doul)tlcs8 the very ones needed to develop true manhood in you. (Jod has a glorious plan for each one of his children. Will you let him carry it on by what rneaiis he sees fit, and so become a vesHel unto honor ; or will you mar it by your freti'ulness and imjta- tienco, and so fail to become what you might? The trouble is you looi< at others more favorably placed than yourself, and then you tiiink you are harshly dealt with because you are not so favored. How can you expect help and grace while you cheriah tliis spirit of repining and rcbt'liou?" ' " I do always fret," replied Ned ; " sometimes I feel simjily discouraged." " But you have the promises, Ned. Has not God promised to be with liis people ? And he who has God with him must surely come off conqueror." " I am not good enough to claim tiie promises," said Ned, sadly. " Ah ! there you make a mistake. Tiie most blessed promises are conditioned on our need and weakness, not to now ; but Home- ill givn u])." tlisc'oiiriifjed," said ly become hel[)fl to '. The triiilri that needed to develop riouH plan for eiich im carry it on by )n\o a vessel unto ti'ulnes.'j and inipa- you might? The orably placed than liarahly dealt with ow can you expect ) spirit of repining ed ; " sometimes I id. Has not God id he who has God ror." lie promises," said Tlie most blessed and weakness, not WAI.TKU MAUI.KYM COXqUKST. 213 on our goodness. Go hoiuu and open your llible, and see whether, with wucli |)romi!)eH tmd such u Havioiir, you have any cause to be discouraged." " I fear I huvo wandered awuy front him,'' aaid Ned, in a low voice. ^ s " Then, my dear boy, come back now ; do not wait any longer. ' Return unto me, and I will return unto you, saith the Lord.' That is a promise for you. And hope on yet about your father, and pray for him ; and bring all your troubles to your Ifjavonly Friend, and your burdens will be ligiitened. God bless you, my boy." And Mr. Harrison pressed his hand warmly. " Pray for me,' said Ned. " Do you suppose I can ever forget to do that for ' my boys ' ? " Mr. Harrison answered. And so they parted : the faithful teacher, to go on his way with deej)encd interest in one whose conduct had often puzzled him ; the burdened lad, with new courage and hope. If Walter could have known all this, his sympathies would have been instantly awakened, and he would have forgiven everything.. But he did not know; so he kei)t on thinking what a mean, crusty sort of a fellow Ned was, and resolved to give him a piece of his mind at the .irst opportunity. Of course, the feelings he cherished influ- 214 WALTER barley's CONQUEST, enced his bearing toward Ned. And so the breach between the boys widened. But, after all, Walter wanted to do what was right; and the more he thought of it the more he felt that the best way was to say nothing. To tell Ned just what he thought about him would be, at the best, but a petty self-gratification. So far he went, but no farther. He still felt indignant at Ned. It so happened that the very first day that Walter was able to go to cchool, he saw Ned on the road ahead of him. Ned was walking very slowly, so Walter knew he must overtake him. The battle raged in his heart anew. Ho^yever, he resolved to say nothing, but to be just distant and cool enough ij: manner to show him what ho thought of him, Then, quick as a flash, came the thought : " That is a half-and-half way of doing ; that is Ect the Christlike way of forgiving, and loving, and passing by a fault." There were many contending thoughts in Walter's mind, but I know this one must have conquered ; for it was a very cheery " good-morn- ing" that Ned heard a few minutes ^iter, when, looking up, he saw Walter Hurley's beaming face. Walter passed on with a gladness in his heart such as only he knows who "ruleth his spirit," while Ned's heart grew light: it was to him a token of good in his upward «^ QUEST, Lnd so the breach lo what was right; more he felt that To teJl Ned just be, at the best, r he went, but no !d. ay that Walter was the road ahead of 30 Walter knew he I in his heart anew, ag, but to be just show him what ho a flash, came the 'ay of doing ; that g, and loving, and many contending now this one must iheery "good-morn- ater, when, looking ing face. Walter irt such as only he 1 Ned's heart grew tod in his upward WALTER HARLEY's CONQUEST. 215 struggle. From this time forward there was no lack of kindly feeling between the two boys. Each helped the other too. Ned had qualities which Walter lacked ; and he in turn, from what he was and from his more favored surroundings, gave many an inspiration to the struggling boy. s w ■ftS 'Me .L- . "!flta'^>fM ! w,tfw w H ' '« CHAPTER XX. PHILIPS RETURN. DECEMBER had come. The first fleecy snowflakes had fallen, covering the brown and faded earth with a fair, wliUu mantle. Pond and stream were bound fast in their icy fetters. The trees stood bare and weird- like, and yet did not seem otherwise than in ko" .ng with the scene as they stood in relief against the wintry sky. Almost all signs of life had vanished from field and wood, and winter had fastened a grip on nature that only the spring sunshine by-and-by would make him let go. There was an attractiveness in it all to one who loved nature; but it Avaa an attractiveness that would make the warmth of home all the more grateful. Mrs. Harley sat in the cosy library at Elmwood busily sewing. Carrie was jierched by the window, looking, not at the snow, nor at the little snow birds hopping about the avenue, bat was watching for Walter. She had some- thing very important to tell him, and she could not even tell mamma what it was. At length Walter appeared, striding along through the snow. Then came the stamp- ing of feet at the doorway, and Carrie ran to meet him. 216 pf fleecy snowflakes and faded earth tream were bound d bare and weird- than in kc iiig gainst the wintry nished from fiehl •ip on nature that ild make him let t all to one who eness that would grateful. t Elm wood busily dow, looking, not lopping about the She had some- le could not even Walter appeared, I came the stamp- 'an to meet him. VVALTEU HARLEY's CONQUEST. 217 "Oh, Walter, you can never guess what I want to tell you I" she cried, and she looked very curiously and ea/jerly at her brother as he glanced smilingly down upon her. SUe was a winsome little maiden, and her brother was very fond of her. Of course, Walter did a good deal of guessing, hut failed every time, and at last Carrie had to tell him. " Philip is coming home on Monday," she said. " Why, his vacati m does not begin yet, docs it ? Who lold you, Carrie?" "Elsie told me,'" replied the little girl. "It is not vacation yet ; but Philip is not feeling well, and he is allowed to come home and rest, for he is away ahead of his class." " Hurrah ! " And Walter tossed up his cap. " Mother, Philip is coming home Monday," he said. "So that is the secret, Carrie, that you were ao anxious to tell Walter? " said Mrs. Harley. "Yes; isn't it lovely ? " said Carrie. ■ " It is the best news I have had to-day," said Walter. Elsie was Philip's younger sister, and was devotedly fond of her big brother. Carrie and Elsie were fast friends, and whatever pleased Elsie pleased Carrie ; so she too was delighted at the prospect of Philip's return. Monday came, and with it came Philip, looking rather -"f*" ; l,;j-i.g-9'> > j r'»»i g- " 218 WALTER HAULEY's CONQUEST. worn and tired, yet as earnest and animated as when Walter saw him in the summer. There was something, however, which aroused a fear in the mind of the younger boy. Ho could not help thinking of that beautiful day when they lay beside the sea, and that far-away look came into Philip's face; when there flashed upon tho mind of his friend the thought of the "land that is very far off," rather than Scotland, which just then was the goal of the ardent young student's hopes. In the days that followed, Walter was often with his friend. He did nat know why it was, but he never could be in Philip's company without feeling that he was made better; that every aspiration after that which is good was strengthened — that, in fact, he was drawn nearer to Christ ; nor was he the only one who felt the influence of that Christlike life. Why was it ? Perhaps this had something to do with it. Nay, let us not use the word perhaps I The evening before Philip returned he had taken out the well-worn Bible, and read these words from 1 Chron. 16 : 43: "David returned to bless his house." And then he asked his Heavenly Father that he too might return to bless his house, and to be a blessing to all whom he might meet. ' Can we doubt that the answer to such a prayer would QUEST. animated as when 3re was something, ind of the younger that beautiful day hat far-away look flashed upon tho "land that is very just then was the )es. was often with his but he never could ' that he was made hat which is good IS drawn nearer to felt the influence nething to do with ips I The evening out the well-worn L Chron. 16 : 43: " And then he might return to to all whom he ch a prayer would -*i* WAI.TEB HAULEY's CONQUEST, 219 be vouchsafed? The following weeks testified to the answer that came. Philip had many inquiries to make of Walter concern- ing the church work. Were the younger members still zealous? How was Stonewny Mission getting on? etc. Walter was obliged, with some shame, to confess that he had not been very active himself lately, and so had not much to tell. Philip looked rather disappointed, and said : " Has the work become uninteresting, Walter? " " I do not know that it is uninteresting. I could not do much for a while after I had the fever ; and then- well, I got out of the way of it. There are so many other things to take up one's time and attention." "And the other things are more important?" ques- tioned Philip. " Perhaps you might not think so ; but I rejdly do not know how to avoid these engagements; for instance, I have been asked to quite a number of parties. I could not very well refuse, and they are pleasant too." "Gay parties with dancing, I suppose? " said Philip. " Yes," returned Walter, a little hesitatingly. " There are very few parties without dancing: one need not dance, though." " It is rather dull unless you do, is it not? " 220 WALTER HAKLEY's CONQUEST. " Rather," said Walter. " Then I practiced for ama- teur theatricals. That took a precious lot of time, I can tell you ; but that might be counted a good work, a& it was for the benefit of St. Urban's Church." Philip smiled. " I do not think a church can do much Christian work on those lines," he said. " Well, I was asked, and could not refuse. One must use ones talents, you know. There will be a rush of all such engagements after the New Year, and I cannot see how I can avoid them. One might as well be out of the world as to refuse to engage in such things ; and I cannot see the harm in them, either." "And then," said Philip, "you like them"? You enjoy these things better than mission work, or Sunday-school teaching, or j)rayer mei ig ? " " Yes," said Walter, frankly, " I do ; and I often wish it were otherwise. I would like to be a decided Chris- tian — wholly on the Lor-I's side." "You find yourself thinking what the world will say of your actions, do you not? " questioned Philip. "And more and more look at things from its standpoint, and fail to see them as God sees them." " Yes, perhaps so," replied Walter, thoughtfully. " Then do you not see what hai-m these worldly pleu- «*■ QUEST. [)racticGd for amo- 8 lot of time, I can a good work, as it irch." ich Christian work refuse. One must ill be a rush of all ', and I cannot see well be out of the ings; and I cannot them" ? You enjoy I or Sunday-school ; and I often wish a decided Chria- he world will say ed Philip. "And ts standpoint, and houghtfully. lese worldly pleu- -'W. WALTER HARLEYS CONQUEST. 221 Bures have already worked in you. Of course, you are thrown into the society of people whose thoughts, aims, and principles of conduct are directly opposite to those of the true Christian ; and your Christian life must be weakened by their influence." " I am afraid it is as you say, Piiilip ; but, as I said before, I do not see how I can help it. It would be very hard to decline invitations on a religious ground." " No doubt it would require some moral heroism," re- plied Philip ; " yet, if your hands were filled with work for the Master, you would fi'^a that you had no time for these other things ; and, after all, it is not very hard when we have Jesus to give up something for him. You will find all along, Walter, as you go through life, it must be one thing or the other. You cannot serve God and Mammon ; a life of devotion to Christ and a life of devotion to the world canjiot be blended in one. And, oh, Walter ! I w ish you could feel, as I do, how worth- less worldly honors, or pleasures, or riches are, compared with Christ ! " " I believe you are right, Philip," said Walter. " Is not that the teaching of the Bible all through ? " 'Forme + live is Christ, and to die is gain,' is surely the privilege of all Christians to say." " I wish that it might be true of me," said Walter ; HP" f^ ... :d 222 WALTER HAni.EY's CONQUEST "yet I am 80 afraid that I shall yield when the temptation comes, and grow cold and half-hearted." " Let U8 make it our prayer, then, that you may count the service of Christ your highest joy, and enter on the new year in a spirit of consecration to him." The answer came, but in a way they little expected. In the days that followed, Walter sj)ent many happy hours at Philip's home, becoming better acquainted wita the other members of the family than he had ever been. There were three besides Philip. Lottie, a gay young lady of sixteen ; George, a headstrong lad, just turned twelve ; and Elsie, a gentle little girl, about ten years old. Mrs. Ray had been a widow for eight years, her husband, Colonel Kay, falling a victim, while yet in the prime of life, to consun-pdon. He left his widow in comfortable circumstances, and she was thus enabled to send Philip, her eldest son, to college. Mrs. Ray, naturally reserved, went through every changing experience with outward composure, and few perhaps guessed how strong were her affections. Philip, since his return, had been the life of the family ; and though his mother said but little, it was evident that her thoughts and hopes were centred in her eldest son. She had bestowed much of thought and means upon his QUEST hen the temptation hat you may count and enter on the him." ' little expected. \y>ent many happy better acquainted than he had ever lOttie, a gay young g lad, just turned bout ten years old. ears, her husband, it in the prime of 3W in comfortable led to send Philip, at through every )mpo8ure, and few Sections. life of the family ; t was evident that in her eldest son. id means upon his WALTER HARLEY 8 CONQUEST. 223 education; and nc^ that he seemed almost ready to enter active life, her hope became more intense. Some- times the chill of a fear would creep into her heart ; but yet it did not seem possible that anything could happen to her boy. CHAPTER XXI. THE CHRISTMAB IIOLIDAY8. THE glad Christmas soiisou was near, and Waltor's haiuU were full of work and his heart full of thoughts for others ; for he did want to make as many as possible happy at this Chrlstmastide. So many things his skillful fingers had made, it was little wonder he sur- veyed them with real pleasure. Toy furniture for his sister's doll iiouse ; brackets and book racks, and so forth, for older friends. Nor were absent ones forgotten ; for there was a home-made scrap album, nild a handsome ship for invalid Jamie. With much labor and patience, he had made a table for Nurse Brown ; and when Lina covered it, and hung around it a drapery worked by her own deft fingers, it looked very pretty, and they knew it would be appreciated ; for Nurse Brown dearly loved pretty things. And then it was such a pleasure to be able to surprise Uncle George with twenty doUai-s for his Sunday-school. And the pleasantest part of Christmas was Uncle George's letter of thanks. Another tiling happened that madr \Valter's heart glad. He had begun to take an interest in the prayer meetings 224 m>* r mi-i lB m i , M H j^ il jf"," >AYB. near, and Wnltor's I his heart full of to make as many as 3. So many things ittle wonder ho sur- )y furniture for his ; racks, and so foi th, ; ones forgotten ; for m, aild a handsome hihor and patience, m ', and when Lina pery worked by her ;y, and they knew it Jrown dearly loved ih a pleasure to be iventy doUai-s for his t part of Christmas AValter's heart glad, the prayer meetings WAI.TEn HAIII^EYS COXQITKST. 225 again ; worldly amusements had less fascination fur him ; the things perfuiiiing to the service of Christ had far more. Then, as is always the case, his heart went out toward others. When the fire is bright on the hearth all about it will feel its warmth. One day he said to Bounio Harris : " Won't you come to meeting to- niglit, if Philip and I call for you? " , ./•■ ' •' Bonnie readily consented. Philip spoke that evening, and Walter wondered if he had Bonnie in mind as he ■was speaking ; fur Walter had told Philip about him. Bonnie was more tlian usually quiet on the way home, taking no part in the conversation'. That an imi)ression had been made upon him was evident enough, and so his friends lefl him to his own thoughts. The next Sunday was the Sunday before Christmas. Walter had felt more than usually interested in the Sun- day-school lesson. After the close of the school, as he was walking home with Bennie Harris, something prompted him to say : " Ben, cannot you receive Jesus aa your Sainour now? " " Oh, Walter," replied Ben, his face lighting up, " I have accepted him. I see it all now, Philip's words came home to me that ni^:at; and I saw, what seems so simple now, but what I never could see before, that it is simply taking Jesus at his word. I knew I was sinful : >•«■ 226 WAI-TER IIARLRY's CX)NQUE8T. and needed Hulvation, but I did not socin able to come. I have coino now, and I want to unite with the Lord's people on the fii'.-*t Suiuhiy of the new year." " I am 80 K'nd," Huid Walter. And then the two boyn walked on in silence; but a new bond of Hym|mthy had been formed between them. Henceforth tluiy were indeed brothers in the Lord. Christmas was a brijjbt, beautiful day. And such a happy day for Walter! His little gifts had given a double i)leasuro that was keener than usual. He had thought of each one esjKJcinlly iis ho had wrought for him or her ; and they had recognized the thoughtfubiess, and it had added much to the intrinsic value of the articles bestowed. Yes; it was an unusually happy Christmas for Walter. Mr. and Mrs. Morton, and Lina and Rob, took dinner at Elmwood. Then in the evening they all went down to 8toneway Miasion, where there was a Christmas tree, and ft supper for the children. Before the children were dismissed, the superintendent and Mr. Harley and Philip Ray each spoke a few words, reminding them of the great event that Christmas celebratcH, Walter never forgot that night. He never forgot how his friend looked, as, leaning over the desk, he spoke of the great gift God the Father gave to the world. Long afler- >•■ fK8T. n ablo to come. with tho Lord's ar." len the two boyH t' Hyiii|mthy hiul tlu!y were indeed y. And such a :l8 liiid given a usual, lie hud lad Avrought for 5 thoughtfubiesa, iic vahio of tho nusually happy Sob, took dinner all went down Christmns tree, lie children were [irley and Philip hem of the great lever forgot how :, he spoke of the Id. Long oiler- i 1 i 1 ■1 4 I > f- j j gW" " ^W. ./ ■■*"W n n. ^ • ^--;^Wi,^ 7 ^ g ^^ W ysy?. gai|^ Walter Harley's ConqucBt. Page 227. W" i WAIiTER HAKLEY S CONQUEST. 227 I ward he could see that pale, spiritual countenance, bright with a glory not of earth. Long afterward he could hear Philip's gentle, persuasive voice, as he urged the little ones to give their hearts to him who gave himself for them. Such a hush fell on the assembly, such a serious, earnest look stole over the upturned faces, as they listened breathlessly to his words; for Philip had already won their hearts. And when, at the close, he said : " How many will begin the journey heavenward now ? I want to meet you all there. Won't you raise your hands?" very many little hands were raised ; and Philip, standing there with hand uplifted, seemed like one drawing them upward and heavenward. No one can estimate the influence of that scene on those little folks. The spiritual face, the earnest words, the upward gesture, each had a meaning which after events, in sonie at least, helped to make an abidi ig memory. It was the evening of the day after Christmas. Walter had felt listless and almost depressed through the day — something uiujsual for the gay, happy-hearted boy. Per- hads it was the natural reaction after the hurry and excitement of Christmas times. However that may be, now, as evening came on, Walter wandered restlessly from room to room, unable to settle down to anything. -fm* l\ 228 WALTKB HARI.EYS CONQUEST. Reaching the library, he picked up a Christmas number of a favorite magazine and tried to read, but it waa no use ; and he wandered off again, this time up stairs and along the hall, to a window that looked out to the east- ward. It was a dark, cloudy night, and a south wind sighed among the leafless branches of the trees. Something in the unrest of nature seemed tO fascinate Walter ; for he stood a long while gazing oat down the aveime, with its line of shadowy trees tossing their long arms restlessly tv. and fro in the fitful wind. Walter started nervously, as a sudden gust made the old elm near tho house creak and groan. The spirit of unrest apparent without had crept into his heart, and somehow a dim foreboding of coming U mingled with it. " What an old woman I am I " he exclaimed, impa- tiently. " I will go to my room thia minute, and study. The very idea of being so nervous when we are all safe and well!" Just at that moment he saw a light gleaming through the trees. Some one was coming up the avenue with a lantern. " Who can be coming at this hour ? " he said, half aloud. The person passed on up to the house, and as the door n 1 - > ' in,"!> i ."..- ' ^i"'irj ' » ST. straas number but it wa3 no up stairs and it to the east- h wind sighed Something in Valter ; for he venue, with its arms restlessly •ted nervously, 10 house creak lit without had foreboding of claimed, impa- ate, and study. ?e are all safe aming through avenue with a ' he said, half ,nd as the door WALTER habley's cosquest. 229 bell rang, a faint dread stole over Walter. He reached the stairway just as the door was opened. He knew the voice well. It was that of Mr. Williams, a man who lived near Mrs. Ray, and did gardening for her. His heart seemed to stand still, yet he felt no surprise as the man told how Maater Philip had been taken suddenly with bleeding at the lungs. "And Mrs. Ray, she wanted me to come for you, sir," he said, speaking to Mr. Harley. " Master George has gone into town for a doctor." " Father, can I go with you ? " cried Walter. " Yes, my son," was the reply. And in a few moments they were following Mr. Williams down the avenue. Soon they reached Woodbine Cottage, Philip's home. How quiet and lonely the house looked I How strange it seemed to cross the threshold with softened footfall, to epeakin subdued tones! The familiar hall, always so bright and cheerful, seemed strangely altered to-night to Walter— 80 dreary and uninviting it looked with its dim- ness and silence. Lottie came forward to meet them. The doctor had just come, and waa now in the sick room. "Philip," she said, "had been taken very suddenly, having appeared to be in hb usual health during the day. The attack had been as severe as it was sudden, and the gravest apprehension filled them all." • 1 nmm* 230 WALTER HAKLEY's CONQUEST. Poor, gay little Lottie : she was completely broken down. Walter could not bear to see her grief. He went into the parlor and sat down. How still and lonely the room looked where they had spent so many pleasant hours of late; and Philip,— Walter could almost see him therc,-the life and light of all. Then he shivered as the thought came. What if Philip should never enter this room again? But he would not think of it. Philip «m«< get better — he could not die. He was roused from his reverie by the doctor's foot- steps. Dr. Stanley came down, looking grave and anxious, but said little. Mr. Harley accompanied him back to town to get medicine. Mrs. Ray came down stairs for a few moments. She greeted Walter calmly, ^ave some directions to Lottie, and then went back to watch by her son's bedside. Shortly after, George came in with Mrs. Rogers, a very dear friend of Mrs. Ray. She was one of those people who know just what to do in a house of trouble. She put her arms around Lottie and kissed her. and then began to talk cheerfully to her. " It will not do for you to give way to your grief so, dear," she said. "You will have to be your mother's right hand now. There will be many things you must attend to, for she wiU have to be so much with Philip. WALTER HARLEY's CONQUEST. 231 jtely broken if. He went d lonely the iny pleasant most see him ivered as the er enter thia Philip must doctor's foot- grave and mpanied him This attack of your brother's may not prove serious, and I hope we may soon see him among ua again." And aa she thus talked, Lottie grew calm again. Mr. Harley now came wifh the medicine, and as there was nothing more they could do, Mr. Harley anu Walter returned home. It was long before Walter could sloep, so many thoughts came crowding into his mind. But they all resolved themselves into this : Philip cannot die, he mtut get better. oments. She ms to Lottie, )edside. Rogers, a very those people ible. She put id then began your grief so, your mother's ngs you must sh with Philip. CHAPTER XXn. LAST WORDS. DURING the days that followed, Walter was much at Woodbine cottage ; for Philip liked to have his companionship, and often nsked for him. After the first day Walter's buoyant spirits began to return. Any slight improvement in Pl.ilip's condition seemed to Wal- ter a sure indication of his ultimate recovery, and he began to talk of what they would do when Philip was able to go about again. Philip said but little, and Walter sometimes noticed a troubled look on his face. The third day after his attack Philip looked brighter and more cheerful than Walter Lad yet seen him. His friend became buoyant at once, and was as hopeful aa before he had been depressed. " Oh, you look ever so much better, Philip ; you will soon be around again," he said. Philip smiled. " I cannot say, Walter ; but one thing I can say now, that, come what may, all is well. At first I could hardly be reconciled to the thought of dying. Life is attractive to the young. I never expected to have a long }«fe ; but I 282 alter was much ked to have his After the first ) return. Any seemed to Wal- icovery, and he rhen Philip was but little, and I on his face, looked brighter seen him. His 18 as hopeful as Philip ; you will g I can say now, it I could hardly Life is attractive ei long 7ife ; but I n^ ALTER HARLEY's CONQUEST. 233 had hoped for a few years, at least, of usefulness ; and then, mother — I felt as though she needed me. Walter, it has been such a struggle to give up all ; but now I can say, * He doeth all things well.' " " Oh, Philip, you will get better ; you must not think of dying yet," said Walter ; " we cannot spare you. I should not wonder if you became as strong as I am yet. There is so much before you ; so much that you might do. Oh, surely you must get well and be about among us again ! " " I wish it might be so, Walter. I would like to live, and yet I have thought very much since I have been lying here that if I were to recover only to be laid aside frequently, and unable through illness to do ray life-work, it would be better, far better, to be taken away now." "Some have recovered from attacks like yours, and become strong men," said Walter, " and I believe you will yet. Every one says ^ve cannot spare you. Ycj do not know how your friends feel. They cannot be recon- ciled to your leaving us. We must have you with us again." " My friends are very kind," said Philip ; " so many , have inquired after me. I only wish I could see them ; but the doctor will not allow it. But, Walter," he con- tinued, bhe earnest look in his eyes deepening, " I want 234 WALTER HARLEY's CONQUEST. you to give the boys this message from me. I want you to tell th >ra tiiat the Christian life is the best life, the happiest life to live. That now, as I look back, I only wish I had served Christ more faithfully. The last year in my life has been the happiest I ever spent. It is good to serve Christ." Philip's cheek flushed with the effort of speaking. " It is too much for you to talk any more now,"' AValtei said. " You must rest, or the doctor will not allow me to be with you." Philip sank back exhausted, and Walter sat watching him with a strange aching in his young heart, lest indeed those might prove his last words. Saturday found Philip worse again. There were com- plications, the doctor said, which rendered his case very serious, and made recovery extremely doubtful. " You have heard the doctor's opinion," said Philip, as Walter took his place by the bedside. He spoke very low, and wistfully, tenderly tui-ned his large, expressive eyes upon his friend. " Yes," said Walter. He could not say more, for a choking sensation came into his throat, and he looked very hard toward a distant corner of the room, lest Philip should see tears in his eyes. There was silence for a few moments. Philip took li JEST. me. I want you ;he beat life, the )ok back, I only . The last year pent. It is good 1 with the effort jre now," Waltei 1 not allow nie to ter sat watching beart, lest indeed There were com- red his case very Dubtful. on," said Philip, He spoke very large, expressive say more, for a t, and he looked f the room, lest Its. Philip took V.'ALTER IIAni.EY'S CONQUEST. 235 Walter's hand in his own. Then he said, gently, "Walter, you know we used to read how in time of battle, when one soldier fell, the next one stepped for- ward and took his i)lace, so that the rank should remain unbroken." "Yes," said Walter, trying hard to keep back the tears. "Walter, you must take my place." Slowly the words came, and distinctly, and the solemnity of their utterance helped to carry them to Walter's very soul. "Oh, Philip! how can I take your place?" cried Walter, with passionate earnestness. "You know I could never hope to be what you would have been ; you are so clever, you would be one of our leading college professors." "You may not occupy just that position, Walter; but you will have money and influence, and you can help some one else who has neither, to fit himself to do the work I had hoped to do — to do it better than I would, perhaps." Even as Philip spoke, Walter seemed to see a little, longing face, and wistful blue eyes, and could hear Bon- nie say, " I woulu dearly love to be a professor in a college." And he mentally resolved to do all he could to realize Beniiie's wish. Aloud he said: "I will, li WALTER HARLEy's CONQUEST. Philip," and the words had to him all the solemnity of a vow. This wna the lust conversation they had. Wheu Walter came again Philip was too ill to talk, and it was evident to all that the end was not far otL ..^m ! ■' , »i i- iii . ii—- JEST. 10 solemnity of a hey had. Wheu > talk, aod it was CHAPTER XXIII. 'COME UP IIianEB. IT was the last night of the year, and "Walter sat up with his friend. Mr. Harley had at fir?t demurred ; for Walter had already been up two nights in succession ; but when Walter said, sadly, " I fear it will be my bust opportunity, father, and Piiilip wants me," his father made no furtlier objection. Mr. Harrison shared the watch with Walter that night. Many thoughts passed through Walter's mind as he sat by Philip's bedside. In the hush and stillness of the room the tick of the clock on the mantel sounded loudly, as it counted off the passing moments. Too loudly, Walter thought, as ho realized that with each swiftly passing moment Philip's life was too surely slipping away. He tried to look back — only one short week since Philip was well and apparently full of life. One week I it seemed like months. Now as he sat by his dying friend, how little all earthly pleasures appeared, how trifling the gayeties that he thought he could not give up I Now ho felt that the only true life was the life lived for eternity. " The best things are the most enduring," he repeated to 2S7 ■"^f«« 238 WAI.TKIl HAIILKYS C<)XCjnhvr. hini8Glf'. " Then tliono lliin^'H cniiiiot hu ItoHt wliich wo cannot carry awuy with iw hfyond tlio borders of tiuie.' And iw tlio Now Year canjo in, Walter conseorutcd ium- Belf anew to the service of tlie Saviour who h)ved him, resolvini^, by God's {jrace, to live wholly to him. Toward nioniin;,' Walter noticed a chan<,'e in I'liilip; he quickly called IMr. Ilarrisfon. As Mr. ILirriHon entered the room, he saw at once that the end wa.>t near. " It Avill bo best to sumuiou the family," he said, " and I will send for the doctor." They ail ;,'atii('r(Ml in the room. Philip scorned scarcely conscions of their presence. He had l)idden each of his dear ones good-bye in the afternoon. He did not appear to Buffer much, only moved restlessly. Mrs. Ilay sat by <;he bedside, holding his hand. Suddenly his face lighted ; ho looked up with a bright smile; then, turning to his mother, and chusping her hand more tightly, ho whispered, " With Christ — far better." A gentle sigh, and the glorified spirit had taken its flight. But ah! the darkened home! Oh, the anguish, aa they realized that their loved one had gone fron) them never to return ! Walter quietly lefl the sorrow-stricken gi'oup, on whoso grief lie felt he could not intrude. As he went down th^^,V**,pti--i>'-» ■ I)u l)ext wliich wo I borders of time.'' • consccriitod hiin- ir who loved him, y to him. chiuigo ill Piiilip ; \a Mr. Iliirrirtoii the end wiw iieivr. ly," ho suid, " and lip sccniod scarcely bidileii each of his Ho did not appear Mra, Ray sat by d up with a bri^dit clasping her hand ihrist — far better." lad taken its flight. 1, the anguish, aa id gouc from them tricken gi'oup, on rude. As ho went cd over some one. WAr-TKB uarley's conqukst. 239 It was [Ktov little Elsie, who had slipped away as soon as all was over to sob out hor grief alone. Walter felt so Borry lor hor, for ho know slio had idolized Philip. " Don't cry bo, Elsio ; Philip is miuih happier,' ho said. " ril try to 1)0 a brother to you." Then he stooiHjd and kissed tho little brow ; and from henceforth he felt as though Elsie wore his j)cculiar charge. The sky was brigiitoning in tiie oiwt as Walter turned his steps homeward. Home way ho could not fool sad ; ho could only think of his friend's happiness. When he reached homo, ho went up stairs. lie found bis mother in iier littlo sewing room reading. " How is he ? " wore her first words. " Ho htiS gone homo," said Walter. Tlion ho went to the window, and his mother, knowing ho could not trast himself to say more, quietly left tho room. Walter spent a very quiet New Year's. That evening he was alone with his mother in the library, and then ho told her of Philip's last hours, and opened to hor his heart, telling hor his difficulties, his temptations, and his desire and purpose to live wholly for Christ. He is altered somewhat since a year ago ; on his face is the look of manhood, and through it shines tho liglit of an earnest, solemn purpose ; for the thoughts and acts of the post year have left their impress on him. At tho M 240 WALTER HARLEY's CONQUEST. beginning of that year he had dimly seen that to do one's daily duties bravely and cheerfully was to be a true hero ; now he realized it fully, and the purpose within him was stronger to-day than ever to be a Christian hero. His mother entered most fully into all his feelings, giving him such counsel as only a true mother caa. At length as the lateness of the hour warned them that they must bring their conversation to a close, Walter said : " Mother, what motto will you give me for this New Year?" And his mother opening the large family Bible, pointed to these words : " Wherefore, seeing we also are compassed about with 80 gi-eat a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith." THE END. 1 1 .i i ( JUE8T. 3n that to do one's was to be a true he purpose within X) be a Christian all his feelings, mother can. lOur warned them i&tion to a close, 1 me for this New the large family ipassed about with aside every weight, us, and let us run re us, looking unto ,ith." i I "-^■■■.;v*;«ji»ifg^^^^m;^u^3.^i^s;^^^^--^i'V^~^r'r^-^ rrrrx^'S''''i.'«"i*S»^.nM%^ir3^*»^*'-^-s^**^ \:,^4' n «".;=,- i^'j7:T7;^'/5S*'>''^-«;,ii.3i,^i, ^jfJ^'K!^^:^;^^' -'■»-*^--^'' ^^?X!iAj.,TT,''-("5*? -^ — 3x-<^