ther Seth. I've thought lately that I'm standing in the
end of my days."

"Peart up, peart up, man! Look at me,--sixty-eight years come December,
never an ache nor a pain, and got all my own teeth. Take another wife.
That keeps a man young if he's got jedgment." He glanced back toward the
Rae house.

"And I want to speak to you special about something--this young dandy
Gentile you're harbouring. Course it's none of my business, but I
wouldn't want one of my girls companying with a Gentile--off up in that
canon with him, at that--fishing one day, reading a book the next,
walking clost together,--and specially not when Brigham had spoke for
her. Oh, I know what I'm talking about! I had my mallet and frow up
there two days now, just beyond the lower dry-fork, splitting out shakes
for my new addition, and I seen 'em with my own eyes. You know what
young folks is, Elder. That reminds me--I'm going to seal up that
sandy-haired daughter of Bishop Tanner's next week some time; soon as we
get the roof on the new part. But I thought I'd speak to you about
this--a word to the wise!"

The Wild Ram of the Mountains passed on, whistling a lively air. The
little bent man went with slow, troubled steps to his own home. He did
know the way of young people, and he felt that he was beginning to know
the way of God. Each day one wall or another of his prison house moved a
little in upon him. In the end it would crush. He had given up
everything but Prudence; and now, for his wicked clinging to her, she
was to be taken from him; if not by Brigham, then by this Gentile, who
would of course love her, and who, if he could not make her love him,
would be tempted to alienate her by exposing the crime of the man she
believed to be her father. The walls were closing about him. When he
reached the house, they were sitting on the bench outside.

"Sometimes," Follett was saying, "you can't tell at first whether a
thing is right or wrong. You have to take a long squint, like when
you're in the woods on a path that ain't been used much lately and has
got blind. Put your face right close down to it and you can't see a sign
of a trail; it's the same as the ground both sides, covered with leaves
the same way and not a footprint or anything. But you stand up and look
along it for fifty feet, and there she is so plain you couldn't miss it.
Isn't that so, Mr. Rae?"

Prudence went in, and her father beckoned him a little way from the
door.

"You're su