follow her heart into the woods."

"Yes, and thank God that she did! Roses and blessings and grace came
with you," said the Judge, with emotion. "But this boy--what is he
to us, or what can he ever be? He is so freaky, and unsteady, and
passionate, and flies off at a word, and goes before he is touched. He
will do nothing, and come to nothing."

"What can he do? Would you really have him buy an axe and chop
cord-wood, or work as a carpenter, or sell tape behind the counter?
Are there not enough to do all that work as fast as it needs to be
done? Is there not a clamorous need of brain-work, and who is there to
do it? Who is to govern, and manage, and control twenty years hence?
Look over all the young men whom you know, and who promises to be fit
to lead? Think over those you know in Cleveland, or Painesville, or
Warren. Is somebody to come from somewhere else? Think of your own
plans and expectations. Who can help you? I see possibilities in this
wayward, passionate, hasty, generous youth. He is a tender and devoted
son, and I am glad he came back; and nobody knows how he may be pushed
against us and others."

"Well," said the Judge, after a thoughtful pause, "what can I do? What
would you have me do--change myself, or try to change him?"

"I don't know," thoughtfully: "I think there is nothing you can do
now. I would wish you to cultivate a manner towards him that would
leave it in your power to serve him or make him useful, if occasion
presents. He needs a better education, and perhaps a profession. He
should study law. He has a capacity to become a very superior public
speaker--one of the first. I don't think there is much danger of his