ful for the
fresh, pure air, and the blessed, God-given light. It seemed to the Girl
that there was enough sunshine at Medicine Woods to furnish rays of gold
for the whole world.

"Bel," she said to the dog standing beside her, "it's a shame to
separate you from the Medicine Man and pen you here with me. It's a
wonder you don't bite off my head and run away to find him. He's gone to
bring more things to make life beautiful. I wanted to go with him, but
oh Bel, there's something dreadfully wrong with me. I was afraid I'd
fall on the streets and frighten and shame him. I'm so weak, I scarcely
can walk straight across one of these big, cool rooms that he has built
for me. He can make everything beautiful, Bel, a home, rooms, clothing,
grounds, and life----above everything else he can make life beautiful.
He's so splendid and wonderful, with his wide understanding and sane
interpretation and God-like sympathy and patience. Why Belshazzar, he
can do the greatest thing in all the world! He can make you forget that
the grave annihilates your dear ones by hideous processes, and set you
to thinking instead that they come back to you in whispering leaves and
flower perfumes. If I didn't owe him so much that I ought to pay, if
this wasn't so alluringly beautiful, I'd like to go to the oak and lie
beside those dear women resting there, and give my tired body to
furnish sap for strength and leaves for music. He can take its bitterest
sting----from death, Bel----and that's the most wonderful thing----in
life, Bel----"

Her voice became silent, her eyes closed; the dog stretched himself
beside her on guard, and it was so the Harvester found them when he
drove home from the city. He heaped his load in the dining-room, stabled
Betsy, carried the things he had brought where he thought they belonged,
and prepared food. When she awakened she came to him.

"How is it going, Girl?" asked the Harvester.

"I can't tell you how lovely it has been!"

"Do you really mean that your heart is warming a little to things here?"

"Indeed I do! I can't tell you what a morning I've had. There have been
such myriad things to see and hear. Oh, Harvester, can you ever teach me
what all of it means?"

"I can right now," said the Harvester promptly. "It means two things,
so simple any little child can understand----the love of God and the
evolution of life. I am not precisely clear as to what I mean when I say
God. I don't know whether it is spirit, m