the boy.
But the judge was saying the things William knew his father had tried
to say, and he was losing none of them. The sacredness of the body,
his lordship was emphasising this, and dilating upon it: the purity of
the heart and mind; respect of woman; the honour of a man; reverence to
God. William afterwards wrote the words out almost as fully as though
he had taken them all down at the time. Nothing had so moved him as
this talk. When he stood at the door to go, the judge placed one hand
on his shoulder, and said simply, "My boy, it has cost me something to
say these things. I am a husband and a father. God knows how much he
has to forgive in me--God--knows. Those I love best--my wife--my
little girl--they could never dream. But--will you try to remember,
sometimes, some of these things?"

William put out his hand and the judge shook it warmly. The boy was
late getting back to the office, and Whimple was testy. "Where on
earth have you been, William?" he asked, sharply; "there's a good deal
of work to do, and we can hardly catch up to it to-day."

"I'm sorry. I've been listening to a man," said William, quietly.

"Must have been a preacher, and a mighty solemn one at that, judging
from your sober face," said Whimple, more gently.

"Not exactly a preacher, but I never heard a better sermon," answered
William, quietly, "never;" and then he started on his work, and kept at
it to such effect that, when they closed up for the night, Whimple
declared, as he had often done before, "You're certainly a wonder,
William."

CHAPTER XXX

William made his first professional appearance in Toronto in the autumn
of that year with Joe Mertle's Company in _Old Etobicoke_, a rural
comedy-drama that was immensely popular in its day and had a long run.
The company was two weeks in the old Academy of Music before taking the
road, and from the first night drew large audiences. William had two
parts. In the first and second acts he merely "appeared," describing
himself to his friends as "part of the scenery." In the third and
fourth acts he had a speaking part, and in the latter a chance for a
little bit of comedy that, short as it was, gave him a real
opportunity. The whole Turnpike family was there, from Dorothy up, so
was Whimple, Miss Whimple, Tommy Watson, both his assistants, Sally
Miller, Lucien Torrance, and "Chuck" Epstein of course. They all sat
together, occupying two boxes. The old comedian was to