night, shut the window, without suspecting that she had cut off the
retreat of any of her woodland neighbors. The next morning she was
startled by what she thought a gray rat running past her bed. She rose
to pursue him, when he ran up the wall, and clung against the
plastering, showing himself very plainly a gray flying-squirrel, with
large, soft eyes, and wings which consisted of a membrane uniting the
fore paws to the hind ones, like those of a bat. He was chased into the
conservatory, and, a window being opened, out he flew upon the ground,
and made away for his native woods, and thus put an end to many fears as
to the nature of our nocturnal rappings.

So you see how many neighbors we found by living in the woods, and,
after all, no worse ones than are found in the great world.

_Harriet Beecher Stowe._

[Illustration]

WINNING HIS WAY.

CHAPTER II. [TN: Continued from Vol. I]

HARD TIMES.

How lonesome the days when dear friends leave us to return no more, whom
we never shall see again on earth, who will send us no message or letter
of love from the far distant land whither they have gone! It tries our
hearts and brings tears to our eyes to lay them in the ground. But shall
we never, never see them again? Yes, when we have taken the same
journey, when we have closed our eyes on earth and opened them in
heaven.

It was a sad day to Paul when he followed the body of his dear old
grandfather to the grave; but when he stood by his coffin, and looked
for the last time upon his grandfather's face, and saw how peaceful it
was and how pleasant the smile which rested upon it, as if he was
beholding beautiful scenes,--when Paul remembered how good he was, he
could not feel it in his soul to say, "Come back, Grandpa"; he would be
content as it was. But the days were long and dreary, and so were the
nights. Many were the hours which Paul passed lying awake in his bed,
looking through the crevices of the poor old house, and watching the
stars and the clouds as they went sailing by. So he was sailing on, and
the question would come up, Whither? He listened to the water falling
over the dam by the mill, and to the chirping of the crickets, and the
sighing of the wind, and the church-bell tolling the hours; they were
sweet, yet mournful and solemn sounds. Tears stood in his eyes and
rolled down his cheeks, as he thought that he and his mother were on
earth, and his