of it makes
me understand about Aunt Winnie, Dan, and how hard it is to give you up.
Still--still--even of old God asked the firstlings of the flock.
Sacrifice! sacrifice! It is the way to heaven, Dan. Heart, hopes, tears,
blood,--always sacrifice." And again the old speaker paused as if in
troubled thought. "How soon must you make your choice, Dan?" he asked at
length.

"My choice? About leaving, you mean, Father? Oh, Pete Patterson doesn't
want me until the fall. And I haven't any place to go this summer, if I
give up now. Father Regan is going to send us off to-morrow with Brother
Bart for a summer at the seashore."

"A summer at the seashore! Ah, good, good,--very good!" said Father Mack,
his old face brightening. "That will give us time to think, to pray, Dan.
A summer! Ah, God can work wonders for those who trust Him in a summer,
Dan! Think what He does with the seed, the grain, the fruit. It is not
well to move or to choose hastily when we are in the dark as to God's
will. So say nothing about all this to any one as yet, Dan,--nothing this
summer."

"I won't, Father," agreed Dan.

"And I promise that every day you will be remembered in my Mass, Dan."

"Thank you, Father! That ought to keep me out of trouble sure."

"And now where is this seashore place?" asked Father Mack, quite
cheerfully.

"An island called Killykinick, Father."

"Killykinick?" echoed Father Mack, startled. "You are going to
Killykinick? God bless me, how wonderful!"

"You know the place, Father?" asked Dan, with interest.

"I know it indeed," was the answer. "I was wrecked there in the wild days
of which I told you, Dan, sixty years ago. The 'Maria Teresa' (I was on a
Portuguese ship) went upon the rocks on a dark winter night, that I
thought was likely to be my last. For the first time in my reckless youth
I really prayed. My dear mother, no doubt, was praying for me, too; for I
learned afterwards that it was on that night she died, offering with her
last breath her life for her boy. Well, we held together somehow until
morning, and got off to the shore of Killykinick before the 'Maria Teresa'
went down, loaded with the golden profits of a two years' cruise."

"And did they never get her up?" asked Dan, quite breathless with interest
at this glimpse of a "dying saint's" past.

"Never," answered Father Mack,--"at least never that I heard of. It was
soon afterward that I turned into other ways and lost sight of my old
mates. Bu