ing the last year and a half
touched a musical instrument. But the festival went on with artistic
smoothness to the finish. None was more surprised than the bishop, who at
the close turned to thank the young man; but Carl had slipped away and
was not to be seen. During the entire entertainment Tom sat on a stool as
if he were petrified. This was the astonishment of his young life.

Next morning the stalwart voices of the students were heard as usual in
their early devotions, but there were no notes of the organ accompanying
them. Word had been received that Keyes himself was ill, and, strange as
it may seem, of all the one hundred and seventy-four students none felt
sufficiently proficient to assume his place at the organ.

"Who played the organ last night?" asked the bishop. "Why can he
not play?"

"O, he is not a student. He is a young Englishman from the farm, a
relative of Sparrow's," replied the professor.

"Well, why don't you secure his services until Keyes returns? I
wanted to thank him last night but could not find him. That young
man is a musician, whoever he is. I will go over with you and we will
see Sparrow."

But they did not find the farmer; instead, they fell in with Carl in
the office of the warehouse. Tom stood on a box taking a lesson in
penmanship. The copy was, "Honesty is the best policy." The writing
lesson was being accompanied by a lesson in honesty. The visitors
listened on the other side of the thin partition to what Carl was
saying to Tom.

"Honesty is telling the truth," were his words. "Honesty means not
keeping back anything. Honesty means telling a thing as it is. Telling
the truth--not more, not less."

The grave bishop tapped at the door which was immediately opened by Carl.

"Is Mr. Sparrow here?" asked the professor.

"No, sir," was the reply. "He has gone to Centerville, but will
return by noon."

"Well," said the bishop, "we really came to see you. You play the organ,
and we are minus an organist at our chapel services. Mr. Keyes, our
organist, we have just learned, has been taken suddenly ill and is in the
hospital. Can you serve us until he returns?"

"I hardly know how to answer you, Bishop," replied Carl, hesitatingly. "I
am working for Mr. Sparrow; and, besides, I have had no practice, with
the exception of last evening, for a long time, which is, of course, a
serious disadvantage. But if Mr. Sparrow does not object, I will do the
best I can for you."

The end o