ost afraid he would.
He is still a boy even though he is nineteen and goes to college. I am
sure that he still knows how to play. He's the only boy I have--all I
have--and I suppose I've spoiled him."

"When shall I send the children, Rev. Smith?" asked Miss Maise.

"Tomorrow, or the next day," was the prompt reply. "This is mid-August.
We can't begin too soon."

Tuesday afternoon the children wended their way to the parsonage. Pearl
was clad in a starched gingham dress, uncomfortably high about the neck,
and with sleeves of an unaccustomed length. The minister himself met
them at the door and ushered them into a room that from all appearances
was meant to be used as a comfortable and cozy living room--even though
there were some evidences of disorder which they knew their aunt would
not have approved of.

"Amuse yourselves for a minute, while I try to find Joe. It is rather
difficult to keep track of him," said the minister as he left them
alone.

When a few minutes later, the minister, followed by his son, was about
to enter the room he stopped, and, grasping his son's arm warningly,
they both, unperceived, watched the two children.

Left to their own resources the children had not remained inactive.
Their curious eyes taking in all the strange surroundings, they saw many
things that interested them. One of the pictures on the east wall
particularly impressed them. It portrayed the figure of a man, his face
lighted up with a wonderfully tender expression, while in his arms and
round about him were small children, alone or with their mothers. The
afternoon sun, shining through the open window, seemed to shed a radiant
halo over the whole group and to make the picture stand out in bold
relief. Standing before the picture in silent wonder, they had not
noticed the approach of the minister and his son. The minister quietly
withdrew, and when the children turned as if by common impulse, they saw
only a young man whose ingratiating smile at once opened a way to their
hearts.

Their previous experience in coming in contact with people enabled them
to become acquainted with the minister's son and to feel themselves the
very best of friends in less time than it ordinarily takes children to
overcome their natural timidity in the presence of strangers. Nor was it
any wonder that a close friendship was formed so quickly, for Joseph
Smith was that type of grown up boy whom all children feel instinctively
to be their frien