d
the boy will take you down this evenin'."

"Well, now, that's kind, sir; very kind, indeed. Man at the
Postoffice is a savage, sir; blasted, old incorrigible savage. My
name is Coughlan; Dr. David Coughlan, of Chicago; practicing
physician for forty years; don't do anything now; not much, that
is. Sarah and the girls won't let me. Your name, sir?"

"Grant Matthews. My boy there has the same. We're mighty glad to
meet any friend of Dad's, I can tell you. He's sure been a God's
blessin' to this neighborhood."

Soon they started homeward, Young Matt going ahead to do the
chores, and to tell his mother of their coming guest, while Mr.
Matthews followed more slowly with the doctor. Shortening his
stride to conform to the slow pace of the smaller man, the
mountaineer told his guest about the shepherd; how he had come to
them; of his life; and how he had won the hearts of the people.
When he told how Mr. Howitt had educated Sammy, buying her books
himself from his meager wages, the doctor interrupted in his quick
way, "Just like him! just like him. Always giving away everything
he earned. Made others give, too. Blast it all, he's cost me
thousands of dollars, thousands of dollars, treating patients of
his that never paid a cent; not a cent, sir. Proud, though; proud
as Lucifer. Fine old, family; finest in the country, sir. Right to
be proud, right to be."

Old Matt scowled as he returned coldly, "He sure don't seem that
way to us, Mister. He's as common as an old shoe." And then the
mountaineer told how his son loved the shepherd, and tried to
explain what the old scholar's friendship had meant to them.

The stranger ejaculated, "Same old thing; same old trick. Did me
that way; does everybody that way. Same old Daniel. Proud, though;
can't help it; can't help it."

The big man answered with still more warmth, "You ought to hear
how he talks to us folks when we have meetin's at the Cove school
house. He's as good as any preacher you ever heard; except that he
don't put on as much, maybe. Why, sir, when we buried Jim Lane
week before last, everybody 'lowed he done as well as a regular
parson."

At this Dr. Coughlan stopped short and leaned against a convenient
tree for support, looking up at his big host, with merriment he
could not hide; "Parson, parson! Daniel Howitt talk as good as a
parson! Blast it all! Dan is one of the biggest D. D.'s in the
United States; as good as a parson, I should think so! Why, man,
he