l old story in this as in the other parts, and try to give her
back a son to be proud of.'

Quite carried away by the likeness of the quaint tale to Dan's life and
needs, Mrs Jo went on pointing to the various pictures which illustrated
it, and when she looked up was surprised to see how struck and
interested he seemed to be. Like all people of his temperament he was
very impressionable, and his life among hunters and Indians had made him
superstitious; he believed in dreams, liked weird tales, and whatever
appealed to the eye or mind, vividly impressed him more than the wisest
words. The story of poor, tormented Sintram came back clearly as he
looked and listened, symbolizing his secret trials even more truly than
Mrs Jo knew; and just at that moment this had an effect upon him that
never was forgotten. But all he said was:

'Small chance of that. I don't take much stock in the idea of meeting
folks in heaven. Guess mother won't remember the poor little brat she
left so long ago; why should she?'

'Because true mothers never forget their children; and I know she was
one, from the fact that she ran away from the cruel husband, to save
her little son from bad influences. Had she lived, life would have been
happier for you, with this tender friend to help and comfort you. Never
forget that she risked everything for your sake, and don't let it be in
vain.'

Mrs Jo spoke very earnestly, knowing that this was the one sweet memory
of Dan's early life, and glad to have recalled it at this moment; for
suddenly a great tear splashed down on the page where Sintram kneels
at his mother's feet, wounded, but victorious over sin and death. She
looked up, well pleased to have touched Dan to the heart's core, as that
drop proved; but a sweep of the arm brushed away the tell-tale, and his
beard hid the mate to it, as he shut the book, saying with a suppressed
quiver in his strong voice:

'I'll keep this, if nobody wants it. I'll read it over, and maybe it
will do me good. I'd like to meet her anywhere, but don't believe I ever
shall.'

'Keep it and welcome. My mother gave it to me; and when you read it try
to believe that neither of your mothers will ever forget you.'

Mrs Jo gave the book with a caress; and simply saying: 'Thanks; good
night,' Dan thrust it into his pocket, and walked straight away to the
river to recover from this unwonted mood of tenderness and confidence.

Next day the travellers were off. All were in good