wn
around the corral and practise on some quiet old heifer, and so on. The
only thing is--never give up."

"But what good does it do if you won't pay attention?"

"Oh, well, I can't learn a new religion all at once. It's like riding a
new saddle. You put one on and 'drag the cinches up and lash them, and
you think it's going to be fine, and you don't see why it isn't. But you
find out that you have to ride it a little at a time and break it in.
Now, you take a fresh start with me to-morrow."

"Of course I'm going to try."

"And it isn't as if I was regular out-and-out sinful. My adopted father,
Ezra Calkins, _he's_ a good man. But, now I think of it, I don't know
what church he ever did belong to. He'll go to any of 'em,--don't make
any difference which,--Baptist, Methodist, Lutheran, Catholic; he says
he can get all he's looking for out of any of 'em, and he kind of likes
to change off now and then. But he's a good man. He won't hire any one
that cusses too bad or is hard on animals, and he won't even let the
freighters work on Sunday. He brought me up not to drink or gamble, or
go round with low folks and all like that, and not to swear except when
you're driving cattle and have to. 'Keep clean inside and out,' he says,
'and then you're safe,' he says. 'Then tie up to some good church for
company, if you want to, not thinking bad of the others, just because
you didn't happen to join them. Or it don't hurt any to graze a little
on all the ranges,' he says. And he sent me to public school and brought
me up pretty well, so you can see I'm not plumb wicked. Now after you
get me coming, I may be easier than you think."

She resolved to pray for some special gift to meet his needs. If he were
not really sinful, there was all the more reason why he should be saved
into the Kingdom. The sun went below the western rim of the valley as
they walked, and the cooling air was full of the fresh summer scents
from field and garden and orchard.

Down the road behind them, a half-hour later, swung the tall,
loose-jointed figure of Seth Wright, his homespun coat across his arm,
his bearskin cap in his hand, his heated brow raised to the cooling
breeze. His ruffle of neck whiskers, virtuously white, looked in the
dying sunlight quite as if a halo he had worn was dropped under his
chin. A little past the Rae place he met Joel returning from the
village.

"Evening, Brother Rae! You ain't looking right tol'lable."

"It's true, Bro