Year: 1866

1t was in the early part OF October, -,
that the Rev. Mr.. Allan started to walk to
Farmer Owen over the hills. He had to
cross two low spurs of the Green Mountains,
and as he climbed to the top of the second
the rich valley Of the Otter Greek lay spread
out before him. At any other time he would
have stopped to admire its gentle undula-
tions its great flower garden of forest trees,
rich in every celor and hue; its silver threads
winding their way to the waters of the
Champlain, and the glorious autumn light
which lay like a golden mantle over them
all. But this afternoon he Sc 9med oppress-
ed by the beauty which surrounded him.
He looked upon it with eyes misty from tears
There was dull, heavy weight upon his
heart-a weight which even the long, fer
vent prayers that he had uttered so unceas-
ingly since noon had failed to novo. Be-
tween him and that landscape, we might
almost say, between him and the mercy seat,
there moved a slight tall boy, with laugh
ing blue eye, clustering brown hair, and lips
a always ready with merry pleasant, word.
To day, there was Benny, nutting under the
throwing his line into the little brooks, that
came babbing down from the steep noun
tain side. driving his cows along the narrow
footpati standing with Blossom under the
bright maple, and shouting with pride and
joy as she wreathed her pretty face in the
gay leaves.


"Oh. Benniel Bennie! F." Mr.. Allan
hardly knew he was calling the name, until
it came back to him with such an empty,
meckimg sound, from the heartless echo !;
"almost Mr.. Allen thought, startling
himself by the seeming impiety Of the
words" almost if there was no great, kind
Father over us all.


As he came near Farmer Ovens house,
he saw his oxen yoked to the plough. He
knew they had been there since the telegraph
came. Mr.. Owen had read it in the field,
gone to the house and forgotten them. and
no one had dared to put them up. He was
a man fully capable Of taking care of his own
affairs under any circumstances, never hav-
ing. been known before to forget


Mr.. Allan beckoned to an Irishman who
was passing and asked him to take care of
them. The man came with an awed look
upon his face, as if even there he atoon in
the presence off great sorrow, and without
the least noise obeyed.


Mr.. Allen walked on slowly toward the
house. He had known Mr.. Owen for many
years, and he knew him well. Indeed there
was a peculiar bond of sympathy between
the two men. In all his large parish, there
was not one upon whom the minister relied
as he did upon this strong, sturdy farmer.
Many and many an hour he had walked by
his side when he was upturning the brown
earth, and had discoursed with him on to.
pics which would have sounded harsh and
repulsive to common ears, but which were
fraught with deep and vital interest to them.
Mr.. Owen was direct descendant of the
Puritans, and every drep of blood in his veins
was tinged with as strong and true blue"
as if he himself had landed in the May
flower. He took naturally to the sterner
in all the modern lore, questioned and doubt
ed. The keystone of Mr. Owens theology
was the sovereignty of God -" Shall not
the Judge of all the earth do right?" This
was the man upon whom God had laid his
hand so heavily; and Mr.. Allan felt that if
the trial brought no murmer, no rebellion
against that mighty Sovereign, the stern old
faith were indeed rich one in which to live
and die. He knew that one elemeAt in this
war was Puritan. Sons of the Roundhesds
filed up the ranks Of the Northern army.
They marched to battle to strains of the old
tunes that had fingered in the nursery and
the sanctuary from the day that Cromwell
and his soldiers chanted them on Marston
Moor. All down the aisles Of Time came
tramping to the music mailed men, bearing
on their shields the two words, Liberty and
Equality. They trembled on Mr.. Owens
lips with his parting blessing to his boy.
Would he remember them, and would they
comfort and give him strength no,o3
Where there is affection in house. the
minister is at home. Mr.. Allan entered
without knocking, and made bis way to the
large, old-fashioned kitchen in which he was
sure Of finding the family.


There, by table, with his arms folded
and laid heavily upon it, sat Mr. Owen.
His wife was ip small rocking chair by the
fire, and Blossom, young girl, sat between
them.


Mr.. Owen rose to welcome him so did
Blossom |; but the wife did not notice him.
she sat STILL rocking herself to and fro, look.
ing at the blazing wood.


Mr.. Allan put hand in the brawny one
that was held out toward him, and laid the
other on Mr.. Owens great heaving breast.
q My friend, he said, show is it with the
DEGREES of God2"


"Just and true are all thy WAYS, thou
King Of Saints" faltsred out tho man.