ersonal inspection of his shoes to see that they were fit for the
journey, but on this departure they had been forgotten. He sat down
and took off the failing equipment. It was too far gone to do anything
temporary with it; and of discomforts a loose sole to one's shoe in
walking is of the worst. The only thing was to take off the other shoe
and both stockings and go barefoot. He tied all together with a piece
of string, made them fast to his deerskin knapsack, and resumed his
walk. The thing did not trouble him much. To have what we want is
riches, but to be able to do without is power. To have shoes is a good
thing; to be able to walk without them is a better. But it was long
since Donal had walked barefoot, and he found his feet like his shoe,
weaker in the sole than was pleasant.

"It's time," he said to himself, when he found he was stepping
gingerly, "I ga'e my feet a turn at the auld accomplishment. It's a
pity to grow nae so fit for onything suner nor ye need. I wad like to
lie doon at last wi' hard soles!"

In every stream he came to he bathed his feet, and often on the way
rested them, when otherwise able enough to go on. He had no certain
goal, though he knew his direction, and was in no haste. He had
confidence in God and in his own powers as the gift of God, and knew
that wherever he went he needed not be hungry long, even should the
little money in his pocket be spent. It is better to trust in work
than in money: God never buys anything, and is for ever at work; but if
any one trust in work, he has to learn that he must trust in nothing
but strength--the self-existent, original strength only; and Donal
Grant had long begun to learn that. The man has begun to be strong who
knows that, separated from life essential, he is weakness itself, that,
one with his origin, he will be of strength inexhaustible. Donal was
now descending the heights of youth to walk along the king's highroad
of manhood: happy he who, as his sun is going down behind the western,
is himself ascending the eastern hill, returning through old age to the
second and better childhood which shall not be taken from him! He who
turns his back on the setting sun goes to meet the rising sun; he who
loses his life shall find it. Donal had lost his past--but not so as
to be ashamed. There are many ways of losing! His past had but crept,
like the dead, back to God who gave it; in better shape it would be his
by and by! Already he ha