the honor of his name. Soon
after leaving the seminary, he married. The crowning moment of his
life was when his first born--a boy--was laid in his arms. The
second child was a girl; there were no more.

"For ten years before her death the wife was an invalid. The
little girl, too, was never strong, and six months after they
buried the mother the daughter was laid beside her.

"You, sir, can understand how the father lavished every care upon
his son. The first offspring of the parents' love, the sole
survivor of his home, and the last to bear the name of a family
centuries old, he was the only hope of the proud man's ambition.

"The boy was a beautiful child, a delicate, sensitive soul in a
body of uncommon physical grace and strength, and the proud father
loved to think of him as the flower of long ages of culture and
refinement. The minister, himself, jealously educated his son, and
the two grew to be friends, sir, constant companions. This, also,
YOU will understand--you and your boy. But with all this the young
man did not follow his father in choosing his profession. He--he
became an artist."

Old Matt started from his seat. Aunt Mollie uttered an
exclamation. But the shepherd, without pausing, continued: "When
his schooling was completed the boy came into the Ozarks one
summer to spend the season painting. The man had expected to go
with his son. For months they had planned the trip together, but
at last something prevented, and the father could not go--no, he
could not go--" The speaker's voice broke; the big mountaineer was
breathing hard; Aunt Mollie was crying.

Presently Mr. Howitt went on. "When the young artist returned to
his father, among many sketches of the mountains, he brought one
painting that received instant recognition. The people stood
before it in crowds when it was exhibited in the art gallery; the
papers were extravagant in their praise; the artist became famous;
and wealthy patrons came to his studio to sit for their portraits.
The picture was of a beautiful girl, standing by a spring, holding
out a dripping cup of water."

At this a wild oath burst from the giant. Springing to his feet,
he started toward the speaker. Aunt Mollie screamed, "Grant, oh
Grant! Think what Dad has done for us." The mountaineer paused.

"Mr. Matthews," said the shepherd, in trembling tones, "for my
sake, will you not hear me to the end? for my sake?"

The big man dropped back heavily into his chair. "Go