looking like one of the fairy-folk of whom legends tell. Often he went
with the wise old man, who gave him lessons of the forest which he knew
so well. John learned to steal on tiptoe and surprise the ways of the
wood-folk,--the shy birds and the shyer little brothers who live in the
moss and mould. He grew wise in the lore of flowers and herbs, and
could tell where each one grew and when it blossomed, and which ones,
giving their life-blood for the sake of men, could cure disease and
bring comfort to the ailing. At night they watched the moon and the
far-off, tiny stars. These, too, became friends, many of them known to
John by name. He loved each one, for the Hermit said that they also
were his brothers and sisters, like the birds and beasts and fishes;
all being the children of that Father who had made this beautiful world
to be the home where all should live together.

But the book of Nature was not all that John studied in these days. He
learned to read also the written language of men, and studied the wise
and holy words which have kept goodness before men's sight since
knowledge began. Until now John had never opened a book or held a pen.
But the Hermit taught him wisely and well, and soon he was in a fair
way to become a scholar.

A busy life he led, what with his studies indoors and out and his
duties about the hut,--for the Hermit taught him to be deft in all
tasks, however simple and homely. John could cut up firewood or cook a
porridge with as happy a face as he wore when he played with Brutus or
sang the morning hymn of praise at the good Hermit's side.

One thing his teacher would not have him forget. He must practice his
tumbling every day. For the Hermit said, "No skill once learned will
ever come amiss, my son. You spent years and suffered hardly to gain