n already exposed to a
contagious disease. Then a happy thought struck me. I went out in the
other part of the Ark to seek Grandma Keeler. I wondered why we had not
thought of her, before.

She entered the room where the women sat. Calm and sunshine was Grandma
Keeler--calm and sunshine breaking through a storm.

If it was scarlet fever, she knew just what to do. She and pa had it
years ago, and they'd lived through it; but she didn't believe that it
was nothin' half so bad, and "What if it is, you poor critturs, you,"
said Grandma, in such a tone as she would have used to soothe a
frightened child; "every time there's a squall must we go to takin' on as
though it was our doin's? The Lord, He makes the squalls, and he don't
put it on us to manage 'em; but up thar' in His fa'r weather, He looks
down on the storms that we know not whither, but are only drivin' of us
landward safe, and 'Keep ye still,' He says, 'Jest keep ye still!' No
need o' strainin' eyes, but fix 'em thar', on Him, I've seen a many times
when no words but them would do."

The tears stood in Grandma's eyes. Beautiful soul! Whatever storms she
might have known in her life's voyage, she only seemed to lie at anchor
now, in a sure haven; and all the while, her heart was going out in the
tenderest sympathy to those still tossing on the seas and striving to
make perilous passages, even to those watching false harbor lights in the
distance. She had had an experience wide enough for all. She had found
where it was still. She longed to draw all others into that stillness.

Soon Grandma was on her way to give help and consolation where it was
most needed--in Captain Sartell's household. She did not come back until
near mid-day.

Mrs. Philander's children were kept carefully out of the room when she
entered.

"The Lord is a goin' to take that little one to Himself, teacher," she
said to me, very impressively.

Captain Sartell had not yet returned with the doctor. Possibly he had
been obliged to drive to the next town. Poor Mrs. Sartell was nearly
distracted. Bessie's fever had gone to the brain.

"We couldn't quiet her, no way," Grandma continued; "and she's a growin'
weak, but when them spells come on, she's ravin', first about one thing
and then another, but mostly it's school, school. 'It's a gittin' so late
in school and the teacher not there'--and then she screams and moans so!
Poor, sufferin' darlin'! ye can't ease her no way."

With a desperate