is sensitive soul with unutterable delight.

In the midst of all these beauties and wonders, he existed without
self-consciousness and labored without effort. His heart was pure and
his oneness with the natural world was complete. Whatever was beautiful
and gentle in the manifold operations of the Divine Spirit in the world
around him, he saw and felt. To all that was horrible and ferocious, he
was blind as a child in Paradise. He did not notice the hawk sweeping
upon the dove, the swallow darting upon the moth, nor the lizard lying
in wait for the fly; or, if he did, he saw them only as he saw the
shadows flitting across the sunny landscape. His soul was like a garden
full of light, life, perfume, color and the music of singing birds and
whispering leaves. Before his inward eye the familiar figures of his
daily life passed and repassed, but among them was also a new one. It
was the figure that had arrested his attention and inspired him the
night before.

For hours he followed the plow without the consciousness of fatigue, but
at length he paused to rest the horses, who were beginning to pant with
their hard labor. He threw back his head, drew in deep inspirations of
pure air, glanced about and felt the full tide of the simple joy of
existence roll over him. Life had never seemed sweeter than in those few
moments in which he quaffed the brimming cup of youth and health which
nature held to his lips. Not a fear, not an apprehension of any danger
crossed his soul. His glances roved here and there, pausing a moment in
their flight like hummingbirds, to sip the sweetness from some unusually
beautiful cloud or tree or flower, when he suddenly caught sight of a
curious equipage flying swiftly down the road at the other side of the
field. The spirited horses stopped. A man rose from the seat, put his
hands to his mouth like a trumpet, uttered a loud "hallo," and beckoned.

David tied the reins to the plow handles and strode across the fresh
furrows. Vaulting the fence and leaping the brook which formed the
boundary line of the farm, he ascended the bank and approached the
carriage. As he did so the occupants got out and came to meet him. To
his astonishment he saw the strangers whom he had noticed the night
before. The man advanced with a bold, free demeanor, the woman timidly
and with downcast eyes.

"Good morning," said the doctor.

David returned his greeting with the customary dignity of the Quakers.

"My name is Dr