The Measure of a Man

⚆
Measure of a Man, The

Project Gutenberg's The Measure of a Man, by Amelia Edith Huddleston Barr This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net
Title: The Measure of a Man
Author: Amelia Edith Huddleston Barr
Illustrator: Frank T. Merrill
Release Date: August 6, 2005 [EBook #16453]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MEASURE OF A MAN ***

Produced by Polly Stratton, Charles Aldarondo and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net

[Illustration: "Holding Bendigo's bridle, he had walked with her to the Harlow residence." Page 43.]

THE MEASURE OF A MAN
BY
AMELIA E. BARR
AUTHOR OF "THE BOW OF ORANGE RIBBON," "PLAYING WITH FIRE," "THE WINNING OF LUCIA," ETC.
ILLUSTRATED BY FRANK T. MERRILL
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY NEW YORK AND LONDON
1915

WITH SINCERE ESTEEM I DEDICATE THIS BOOK TO
MRS. ARTHUR ROBERTS
OF EVANSTON, ILLINOIS

PREFACE
My Friends:
I had a purpose in writing this novel. It was to honor and magnify the sweetness and dignity of the condition of Motherhood, and of those womanly virtues and graces, which make the Home the cornerstone of the Nation. For it is not with modern Americans, as it was with the old Greek and Roman world. They put the family below the State, and the citizen absorbed the man. On the contrary, we know, that just as the Family principle is strong the heart of the Nation is sound. "Give me one domestic grace," said a famous leader of men, "and I will turn it into a hundred public virtues."
A Home, however splendidly appointed, is ill furnished without the sound of children's voices; and the patter of children's feet. It may be strictly orderly, but it is silent and forlorn; and has an air of solitude. Solitude is a great affliction, and Domestic Solitude is one of its hardest forms. No number of balls and dinner parties, no visits from friends, can make up for the absence of sons and daughters round the family table and the family hearth.
Yet there certainly is a restless feminine minority, who declare, both by precept and example, Family Life to be a servitude. Alas! They have not given themselves opportunity to discover that self-sacrifice is the meat and drink of all true affection.
But women have learned within the last two decades to listen to every side of an argument. Their Club life, with its variety of "views," has led them to decide that every phase of a question ought to be attentively considered. So I do not doubt that my story will receive justice, and I hope approval, from all the women--and men--that read it.
Affectionately to all, AMELIA E. BARR.

CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE GREAT SEA WATERS 1
II. THE PEOPLE OF THE STORY 18
III. LOVE VENTURES IN 39
IV. BROTHERS 56
V. THE HEARTH FIRE 78
VI. LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM 99
VII. SHOCK AND SORROW 125
VIII. THE GODDESS OF THE TENDER FEET 146
IX. JOHN INTERFERES IN HARRY'S AFFAIRS 182
X. AT HER GATES 204
XI. JANE RECEIVES A LESSON 235
XII. PROFIT AND LOSS 262
XIII. THE LOVE THAT NEVER FAILS 286
SEQUENCES 312

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
"Holding Bendigo's bridle, he had walked with her to the Harlow residence"...Frontispiece "He knew her for his own ... as she stood with her father at the gate of their little garden"...72
"He ran down the steps to meet her, and she put her hand in his"...168
"Noiselessly he stepped to her side and ...stood in silent prayer"...232

THE MEASURE OF A MAN
CHAPTER I
THE GREAT SEA WATERS
Gray sky, brown waters, as a bird that flies My heart flits forth to these; Back to the winter rose of Northern skies, Back to the Northern seas.
* * * * *
The sea is His, and He made it.
I saw a man of God coming over the narrow zigzag path that led across a Shetland peat moss. Swiftly and surely he stepped. Bottomless bogs of black peat-water were on each side of him, but he had neither fear nor hesitation. He walked like one who knew his way was ordered, and when the moss was passed, he pursued his journey over the rocky moor with the same untiring speed. Now and then he sang a few lines, and now and then he lifted his cap, and stood still to listen to the larks. For the larks sing at midnight in the Shetland summer, and to the music of their heaven-soaring songs he set one sweet name, and in the magical radiance over land and sea had that momentary vision of a beloved face which the second-sight of Memory sometimes grants to a pure, unselfish love. Then with a joyful song nestling in his heart, he went rapidly forward. And the night was as the day, for the moon was full and the rosy spears