d on her feet, lost her balance and fell
overboard. Ida Lewis, who was rowing in near the pier, instantly came
to the rescue, helped the struggling and much frightened woman into
her own boat, and then picked up the other one, which was drifting
away.

Sixty-five years young, and heroic from earliest girlhood to latest
old age! We add our tribute to those heaped on her head by many who
knew her in person and others who were acquainted only with her heroic
acts, and we rejoice to know that in this year of American crisis we,
too, can reflect the heroism of the keeper of Lime Rock Light, for in
our hands are greater opportunities for wide service and greater
variety of instruments by which to mold the destiny of nations and
save life. Proud are we that we, too, are American, as was Ida Lewis,
and we can give interest as consecrated and sincere to the work at our
hand to-day as she gave, whose daily precepts were work and thrift,
and who said, in her quaint way, of the light which had been her
beacon of inspiration for so many years of service:

"The light is my child and I know when it needs me, even if I sleep.
This is home to me, and I hope the good Lord will take me away when I
have to leave it."

Her wish was granted. In the last week of October, 1911, she fell
asleep in the lighthouse on Lime Rock, which had been her home for so
long, lulled into an eternal repose by the wind and waves, which had
for many years been her beloved companions--and as she slept the
beacon-light which she had for so long kept trimmed and burning sent
out its rays far beyond the little bay where Ida Lewis lay asleep.

Patriotism, faithfulness, service--who can reckon their value? The
gleam of Ida Lewis's light flashes inspiration and determination to
our hearts to-day.

CLARA BARTON: "THE ANGEL OF THE BATTLEFIELDS"

For several weeks the sound of hammer and saw had been heard on the
Barton farm where a new barn was being built. The framework was almost
up, and David Barton and his little sister Clara, with a group of
friends, were eagerly watching the carpenters, who were just fixing
the high rafters to the ridge-pole.

"I dare you to climb to the top, Dave!" suddenly challenged a boy in
the group.

David Barton, who was known as the "Buffalo Bill" of the neighborhood,
always took a dare. Almost before the challenge had been given his
coat was off and he had started toward the new building amid a chorus
of cries: "Good fo