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for me. Then I will come." She smiled up into his face.
"By faith we see afar," he replied.
"Yes; we live by faith," she added.
Hand in hand, they went. They spoke no more, but communed with
each other through a more subtle channel of silence. Celestial melodies
rang in their ears; the celestial landscape gladdened their eyes; the
peace of God, their Father, was in their hearts. They walked hand in
hand for the last time in this, their first estate.

PART SECOND.
"Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting; The soul that rises with us,
our life's star, Hath had elsewhere its setting, And cometh from afar.

Not in entire forgetfulness And not in utter nakedness, But trailing
clouds of glory do we come From God who is our home."
--_Wordsworth._
"Two shall be born the whole wide world apart, And speak in different
tongues and have no thought Each of the other's being, and no heed;
And these o'er unknown seas and unknown lands Shall cross, escaping
wreck, defying death; And all unconsciously shape every act And bend
each wandering step to this one end-- That, one day, out of darkness
they shall meet And read life's meaning in each other's eyes."
--_Susan Marr Spalding._

I.
"Even a child is known by his doings."--_Prov. 20:11._
How it did rain! For two long months the sky had been one
unchangeable color of blue; but now the dark clouds hung low and
touched the horizon at every point dropping their long-accumulated
water on the thirsty barrens, soaking the dried-up fields and meadows.
The earth was thirsty, and the sky had at last taken pity. It rained all
day. The water-ditches along the streets of the village ran thick and
black. The house-wife's tubs and buckets under the dripping eaves were
overrunning. The dust was washed from the long rows of trees which
lined the streets.
It rained steadily all over the valley. The creek which came from the
mountains, and which distributed its waters to the town and adjacent
farm-lands, was unusually muddy. Up in the canyon, just above the
town, it seemed to leap over the rocks with unwonted fury, dashing its
brown waters into white foam. The town below, the farms and gardens
of the whole valley, depended for their existence on that small river.
Through the long, hot summer its waters had been distributed into
streams and sub-streams like the branches of a great tree, and had
carried the life-giving element to the growing vegetation in the valley;

but now it was master no more. The rain was pouring down on places
which the river could not reach. No wonder the river seemed angry at
such usurpation.
About two miles from town, upon the high bench-land which lay above
the waters in the river, stood a hut. It was built of unhewn logs, and had
a mud roof. Stretches of sagebrush desert reached in every direction
from it. A few acres of cleared land lay near by, its yellow stubble
drinking in the rain. A horse stood under a shed. A pile of sagebrush
with ax and chopping block lay in the yard.
Evening came on and still it rained. A woman often appeared at the
door of the hut, and a pale, anxious face peered out into the twilight.
She looked out over the bench-land and then up to the mountains.
Through the clouds which hung around their summits, she could see the
peaks being covered with snow. She looked at the sky, then again along
the plain. She went in, closed the door, and filled the stove from the
brush-wood in the box. A little girl was sitting in the corner by the
stove, with her feet resting on the hearth.
"I thought I heard old Reddy's bell," she said, looking up to her mother.
"No; I heard nothing. Poor boy, he must be wet through."
The mud roof was leaking, and pans and buckets were placed here and
there to catch the water. The bed had been moved a number of times to
find a dry spot, but at last two milk pans and a pail had to be placed on
it. Drip, drip, rang the tins--and it still rained.
The mother went again to the door. The clang of cow-bells greeted her,
and in a few minutes, a boy drove two cows into the shed. The mother
held the door open while he came stamping into the house. He was a
boy of about fifteen, wearing a big straw hat pressed down over his
brown hair, a shabby coat, blue overalls with a rend up one leg, ragged
shoes, but no stockings. He was wet to the skin, and a pool of water
soon accumulated on the floor where