th God. They could not always be
Bert's shields. He must learn to fight his own battles, and it was as
well for him to begin now, and at Dr. Johnston's school.

Bert himself took quite a serious view of the matter, too. He was a more
than ordinarily thoughtful boy, and the prospect of going to Dr.
Johnston's made his brain very busy. While the school was not without
its attractions for him, there were many reasons why he shrank from
going to it. The most of the boys were, as he knew from often seeing
them when on his way to and from Mr. Garrison's, older and bigger than
himself, and, still worse, they were strangers to him with one or two
exceptions. Of course, since Frank was to go with him, he would not mind
that so much, but it counted for a good deal, notwithstanding.

Then he had heard startling stories of Dr. Johnston's severity; of his
keeping boys in after school for a whole afternoon; of the tremendous
whippings he gave with that terrible strap of his, the tails of which
had, according to popular rumour, been first soaked in vinegar, and then
studded with small shot; of the rigorous care with which the lessons
were heard, every boy in the class having to show that he was well
prepared, or to take the consequences. These, and other stories which
had reached Bert's ears, now perturbed him greatly.

At the same time, he had no idea of drawing back, and pleading with his
father to send him somewhere else. He saw clearly enough that both his
father and mother had quite made up their minds that it would be the
best thing for him, and he knew better than to trouble them with vain
protests. He found his sister an inexpressible comfort at this time. He
confided in her unreservedly, and her sweet, serene, trustful way of
looking at things cleared away many a difficulty for him. It was easy to
look at the bright side of affairs with Mary as an adviser, and the more
Bert talked with her, the more encouraged he became. It was a happy
coincidence, that on the Sunday preceding Bert's entrance into Dr.
Johnston's school, the lesson for the Sabbath school should contain
these ringing words: "Quit you like men; be strong." Mr. Silver had much
to say about them to his class:

"Only six simple words of one syllable each, boys," said he, as he
gathered his scholars close about his chair, "but they mean a great
deal. And yet, we do not need to look into some wise old commentator to
tell us just what they do mean, for we can all u