had his own little fishing-rod, and with it in his hand sat on a
log beside his father, a little apart from the rest, patiently waiting
for the fish to bite. Mr. Travilla had thrown several out upon the
grass, but Eddie's bait did not seem to attract a single one.

He began to grow weary of sitting still and silent, and creeping closer
to his father whispered, "Papa, I'm tired, and I want to ask you
something. Do you think the fish will hear if I speak low?"

"Perhaps not; you may try it if you like," returned Mr. Travilla,
looking somewhat amused.

"Thank you, papa. Well, Herbert said nobody but a coward would be afraid
to go on that bridge. Do you think he was right, papa?"

"No, my boy; but if you had gone upon it to avoid being laughed at or
called a coward, I should say you showed a great lack of true courage.
He is a brave man or boy who dares to do right without regard to
consequences."

"But, papa, if you'd been there and said I might if I wanted to?"

"Hardly a supposable case, my son."

"Well, if I'd been a man and could do as I chose?"

"Men have no more right to do as they please than boys; they must obey
God. If his will is theirs, they may do as they please, just as you may
if it is your pleasure to be good and obedient."

"Papa, I don't understand. Does God say we must not go into dangerous
places?"

"He says, 'Thou shalt not kill;' we have no right to kill ourselves, or
to run the risk of doing so merely for amusement or to be considered
brave or dexterous."

"But if somebody needs us to do it to save them from being hurt or
killed, papa?"

"Then it becomes quite a different matter: it is brave, generous, and
right to risk our own life or limbs to save those of others."

"Then I may do it, papa?"

"Yes, my son; Jesus laid down his life to save others, and in all things
he is to be our example."

A hand was laid lightly on the shoulder of each, and a sweet voice said,
"May my boy heed his father's instructions in this and in every thing
else."

"Wife!" Mr. Travilla said, turning to look up into the fair face bent
over them.

"Mamma, dear mamma, I do mean to," said Eddie.

"Is it not time to go home?" she asked. "The little ones are growing
weary."

"Yes, the sun is getting low."

In a few moments the whole party had reembarked; in less exuberant
spirits than in the morning, yet perhaps not less happy: little disposed
to talk, but with hearts filled with a quiet, peaceful conten