right up to the
"Misty Star" with me,' I tell you it made my heart thump. Didn't know
whether the Misty Star was a balloon or a planet; didn't care much. Miss
Gray was so kind and I was tired. Hunting a job in an unknown language
is rather discouraging."

"Discouraged!" laughed Jane, poking up the fire and arranging a big
chair in which she put Mr. Hanaford, at the same time stuffing a pillow
behind his back. "The idea of being discouraged when the world is full
of poetry and love staring you right in the face! Besides, there is
always hope blooming everywhere like a dield full of faisies."

Our visitor's face crinkled with suppressed amusement at the little
lady's funny mixture of words and he asked, "Are you never discouraged?"

"Goodness me, no! Not now. Every time I see a blue thought sticking its
head around the corner, I begin to sing the long meter doxology. My
music sends it flying. I can't afford to be discouraged. You see, I'm
pledged to help a lot of unfortunate friends. I haven't a cent of money
and every time I let the teeniest little discouragement show its face,
it would surely knock a plank out of the hospital I'm going to build for
them."

"Build a hospital without money?" said he. "If you are that kind of a
magician, perhaps you can tell me where I can find so many students that
riches will pour in upon me?"

"Yes, indeed, I can," assented Miss Gray generously. "The pupils are
sure, if the pay isn't. Miss Jenkins can find you a barrelful."

The young man turned to me. "A baker's dozen would do to start with.
Would you be so kind? I need them very much. I must have work."

His manner was so earnest and appealing, his need so evident that I was
ready to turn over to him every student on my list, if that were the
thing necessary to enable him to earn a living and get a new grip on
life. There were more than enough pupils to go around, and I was glad to
put away my work and give the afternoon to planning for a place in which
to house Mr. Hanaford and his going-to-be-pupils.

Our guest entered into all our suggestions eagerly. The environment of
our simple home, the ministrations of motherly hands touched hidden
chords. He did not hide his enjoyment, but talked well and
entertainingly of everything--except himself. At times he was boyishly
gay; then, seemingly without cause, the expectant look of his eyes would
fade into one of bewildered confusion and he would sit in silence. I
hoped it was the ef