cause I feel that I should,
although please do not think that I want to croak like an old black crow
in one of your pine trees.

If you have really set your whole heart upon becoming a nurse when you
grow up, and your granddaddy has consented, it is not for me to say that
you cannot do it. But I _do_ know the path which you must travel. I
know that it is much steeper, much more rocky and full of briary bushes
than any one your feet have ever climbed on your mountain, and you will
have to keep a very brave little heart inside you, if you hope to reach
the summit. And then, if you succeed, instead of finding a fairy castle
filled with all sorts of pleasant things, you will only discover another
long and weary road which must be traveled until your tired little body,
and heart, made heavy by the sufferings of little children, long for the
quiet restfulness of your dear old mountain home.

Am I still trying to discourage you? I suppose that I am, for, you see,
_I_ can look back along that road which lies _before_ you, and I can
remember the rocks I had to climb over, and the bushes I had to struggle
through, and yet I know that it was far easier for me than it will be
for you.

You have read parables in the Bible. Well, I am preaching a modern
parable. "Book learning" is a sword and buckler--or perhaps it would be
better to say that it is a suit of strong hunting clothes and thick
leather knee-boots, and I was pretty well clad like that when I started
my trip, while you are dressed only in thin gingham, with your legs and
feet bare--as I first saw you. Please shut your eyes, dear child, and
try to see the parable picture I have drawn for you.

Have you done it? The picture is not as pretty as the one I painted the
night I told about how fine it was to be a nurse, is it? But it is more
nearly true to life.

Now, think hard before you make up your mind as to whether or not you
really mean to go ahead, for--after all, little Smiles--each boy and
girl has soon to decide, all alone, what he or she is going to do with
that strange thing which we call life.

If your courage is really as strong as that of the wonderful Joan of
Arc, I, too, believe that you can succeed and make your dream come
true, and of course I will help you, gladly--in every way that I can.

Now I am all through preaching. It is out of my line, and I promise not
to do it again. Within a few days you will, I hope, get a boxful of the
books which I have s