lid ranks around the stove, watching her with interest. And
having taken off the last cake, she set the heaping plate in the open
oven to keep warm till her husband came.

"I guess pa's coming now," said Sarah, who, anxious to get to eating,
had looked out to see if he was in sight. "No; it isn't he, either; I
don't know who it is. How nicely dressed he is!"

At the latter exclamation the family urchins rushed in a body through
the door, upsetting Sarah in their eagerness to see the wonder.

A gentlemanly, middled-aged man in black, with gold spectacles and
pleasant countenance, approached.

Accustomed to the plainly-attired specimens of humanity that do the
hard work of the frontier, the children, overawed by his appearance,
shrank behind cabin and pigsty, in spite of his kindly invitations to
stay, where they peeped at him in open-mouthed astonishment.

"Mrs. Jones, I presume," said he, bowing, as, abashed, she answered
his polite rap on the door-frame.

"Yes, sir," she replied, wondering how he knew her name.

Entering, without being asked,--for Mrs. Jones was too confused to
think of it,--he said,--

"I heard that your son had met with an injury, and as I was looking
up children for the Sabbath school we are to organize next Sunday, I
thought I would step in and see how he was, and how many of your
little ones could attend."

"It is the missionary," whispered Tom, as his mother nervously
smoothed the bed-clothes.

The good minister heard the remark, and not appearing to notice the
mother's embarrassment, stepped to Tom's side, and in a way that made
both mother and son feel at ease, said,--

"I hope you are not seriously hurt, my lad."

"No, sir," replied Tom, grateful for his thoughtful kindness. "My face
was burnt pretty badly by the powder; but it's nearly well now, and
the black is coming off nicely."

"How did you contrive to get hurt so, at this season of the year? Boys
sometimes get burned with powder on Independence Day. I once met with
such an accident myself."

"How did it happen?" Tom ventured to inquire, for he loved dearly to
hear a story.

"It was when I was about fourteen," replied the minister. "I was a
wide-awake little good-for-nothing, and had for some weeks saved up my
pennies to celebrate the Fourth with. I bought me a half pound of
powder, and a little iron cannon, on wheels, and, as you may believe,
anticipated a jolly time. I had decided, the night before, to commence
the