nce, because you seem worth
getting acquainted with. Now, what are your plans for the future?"

"I'm going into a lumber mill at Lessing and Alexina is going into the
T. Morson store," said Stephen quietly.

"Tut, tut, no, you're not. And she's not. You're coming to live with
me, both of you. If you have a fancy for cutting and carving people
up, young man, you must be trained to cut and carve them
scientifically, anyhow. As for you, Alexina, Stephen tells me you can
sing. Well, there's a good Conservatory of Music in town. Wouldn't you
rather go there instead of behind a counter?"

"Oh, Uncle James!" exclaimed Alexina with shining eyes. She jumped
up, put her arms about Uncle James' neck and kissed him.

Uncle James said, "Tut, tut," again, but he liked it.

When Stephen had seen his uncle off on the six o'clock train he
returned home and looked at the radiant Alexina.

"Well, you made your favourable impression, all right, didn't you?" he
said gaily. "But we owe it to Josie Tracy. Isn't she a brick? I
suppose you're going over this evening?"

"Yes, I am. I'm so tired that I feel as if I couldn't crawl across the
yard, but if I can't you'll have to carry me. Go I will. I can't begin
to tell you how glad I am about everything, but really the fact that
you and Duncan and Josie and I are good friends again seems the best
of all. I'm glad that tramp stole the dinner and I hope he enjoyed it.
I don't grudge him one single bite!"

The Fraser Scholarship

Elliot Campbell came down the main staircase of Marwood College and
found himself caught up with a whoop into a crowd of Sophs who were
struggling around the bulletin board. He was thumped on the back and
shaken hands with amid a hurricane of shouts and congratulations.

"Good for you, Campbell! You've won the Fraser. See your little name
tacked up there at the top of the list, bracketed off all by itself
for the winner? 'Elliott H. Campbell, ninety-two per cent.' A class
yell for Campbell, boys!"

While the yell was being given with a heartiness that might have
endangered the roof, Elliott, with flushed face and sparkling eyes,
pushed nearer to the important typewritten announcement on the
bulletin board. Yes, he had won the Fraser Scholarship. His name
headed the list of seven competitors.

Roger Brooks, who was at his side, read over the list aloud:

"'Elliott H. Campbell, ninety-two.' I said you'd do it, my boy.
'Edward Stone, ninety-one'--old Ned