he minister recovered from his Sunday
abstraction.

"Did you have a pleasant trip, Jason?" he asked as they led the horses
into the boat.

"Yes, father," answered Jason dutifully.

Brother Wilkins looked at the boy, as if he were beholding him from a
new angle.

"You don't look as much like your dear mother as you did in your
childhood, my boy. Sometimes--I wonder--Jason, do you think this life
has been too hard on your mother?"

"Yes, sir, I do. It's hard on a boy, why shouldn't it be doubly hard on
a woman?"

The minister sighed. "Your reply is hardly polite, Jason, though I
suppose my question merited it." Then with sudden heat: "Never mistake
this cold frankness of yours for courage, my son. It takes more courage
usually to be courteous than to be impolite. Did you notice that I
coughed violently yesterday evening at Sister Clark's?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, the cause of it was this. She went down to the spring and fetched
a pail of water for the mush. When I was eating my helping, I felt a
lump in my mouth. But the old lady had her eye on me every minute for
fear I wouldn't enjoy the frugal meal, so I could only investigate with
my tongue. I found that she had cooked a little bit of a frog in the
mush. Now, Jason, if she had discovered that she never would have
recovered from the mortification. The only time in her life the minister
stopped with her. So, though it made me choke, I swallowed it. That,
sir, is my idea of courtesy. I wish you not to forget it."

Jason's cool, speculative young gaze was on his father's face as he
answered:

"I understand, father."

The minister turned away. "No, you don't. I doubt if you ever do." And
he did not speak again until they reached home.

[Illustration]

III

WAR

[Illustration]

III

WAR

And so Jason went away to study medicine. He worked very hard and
progressed very rapidly. By the time he was twenty he was no longer "the
doctor's boy." He was a real assistant in all but fees. He had no share
in the doctor's income and always was desperately hard up.

At first, he did not ask his father and mother for help. He did all
sorts of odd chores to pay his way. But as he progressed in his
profession, he had less and less time for earning his up-keep and had
finally to write home for money. His mother always answered his letters
and she never failed to send him money when he asked for it. How she
managed it, Jason never asked. Perhaps he was