The Yale expositor., 1914-08-13

III Bldu-Ior you, Bne Auueu moro
softly.
He remained silent, an unreasoning,
indefinite disappointment lingering.
Something he wanted-he could not
say what-was lacking in her words.
"Aren't you giad?"
Yes, but" He dismissed the
doubt. His eagerness returned. I'm
going driving this afternoon"
She became girlish again. us that
an invitation?" with demure little
smile.
IF you want to CO."
"Of course, Mister Solemn! Aren't
you" She stopped, apparently over
come with confusion for her boldness.
Say it," he besought thirstily.
There was delicious moment of un-
certainty, a breathless little laugh.
My lover. There! I'll be waiting
for you, just after dinner" And the
butterfly fluttered away.
He went from the churchyard and
followed the street past the point
where it returned to its native state OF
dusty, weed-fianked. country pike. He
came to a place where the road rose
sharply and fell again. Mounting to
the crest, he threw himself on the
roadside and waited; thither Richard
Courtney would come on the after
service walk that was his custom.
Up the rise, village-bound, leisurely
creaked an ancient top buggy. In 1t
e1Ouchad % rniddla-a1ad man uDop
whose face were written humor and
patience, qualities Of which he had
great need just then. His horse la
bored heavily at it's task, head hang
ing low; not the bellows in Simon
Truitt's smithy puffed louder or hard
er. At the crest it stopped without
urging. Mark frowned impatiently.
Then he noted the sad state of the
horse and a grin displaced the frown.
Hear you're going away" Doc"
Hedges remarked. For the good of
the town."
Mark nodded, the grin widening.
Maybe you'd like to help pay my
fare?"
Il have helped" the doctor rejoined
dryly. Going to get rich, amt you?
They all think that"
1T happens sometimes"
You might, though. Any man ought
to get rich that could sell me this
would you call 1t a horse?"
"Hmm!" Mark considered the ami
NAL iudicially. We'll, 1t has four
legs"
Sos a billy goat" drawled the doc
tor. "Goat'd be more use TO me, too"
What did you buy it for. then?"
81 amt squealing. Pretty slick GUS
toner, amt you?"
The grin returned. 81 can sell
horses" Mark modestly admitted. "to
some people"
"Humph! Only fool'd buy 'em of
you" the doctor agreed. "What1l you
take for the brown mare?"
THE brown mare isn't for sale"
ANY horse is for sale," the doctor
insisted, "at the right price. Give you
a hundred and fifty"
Il wouldn't sell her for two-fifty."
The doctor sighed and clucked to
the weary horse.
Out of the dusty cloud trailing be-
hind the creaky buggy emerged a tall
STOPPING figure, clad in the rusty black
OF the country clergyman. He walked
slowly, and when he came to the rise,
with slight effort; evidently he was
frail man physically. At the crest
he stopped, breathing hard.
Taking a good-by look at it?" he
asked between breathe.
mo. Just waiting for you"
The preacher smiled family; the
worn dispirited face lighted up a lit
tie. He turned his glance to the val
ley.
It's worth a farewell. You'll be
homesick for II sometimes hope.
Shall we walk bit farther?"
At his tagging pace they tramped
along the road, constantly rising and
descending but always reaching up to-
ward a higher level. They kept the
frank silence of those who have been
companions often.
Ten years before Richard Courtney
had resigned the city congregation
that was steadily withering under his
ministry and had come to shepherd the
little flock of Bethel II proved to be a
life sentence, but in the end he stayed,
If not gladly, at least with such Chris
tian fortitude as a quivering sensitive
soul could summon; having found-so
he put it--a need to which he could
minister. In the early days OF his new
service he had discovered a neglected.
unlettered, moody youngster suffer
ing under the blight of his relation to
Simon Truitt, who, for his supposed
atheism, was accounted a little less
than respectable. Some quality in the
boy caught the preachers fancy. Tact
fully he sought to win into Marks
heart, not a very difficult task once the
lad learned that ministerial conversa-
tion was not confined to graphic pic
lures of eternal torment And then,
not quite realizing how this new inter
est eked out the Christian fortitude
Just mentioned. he set about to make
Mark over. From Richard Courtney
the blacksmiths son had had his Yer.
gil and Xenophon and Homer. his
Euclid and Quackenbos. What may