to listen for a moment to their deep-drawn sighs of contentment, and to
the musical grinding of the oats in their teeth. His imaginative mind
read his own thoughts into everything, and he believed that he could
distinguish in these inarticulate sounds the words, "Good-night.
Good-night."

"Good-night," he said, and stroking their great flanks with his kind
hand, left them to their well-earned repose. On his way to the house he
stopped to bathe his face in the waters of a spring brook that ran
across the yard, and then entered the kitchen where supper was spread.

"Thee is late," said the woman who had watched and waited, her fine face
radiant with a smile of love and welcome.

"Forgive me, mother," he replied. "I have had another vision."

"I thought as much. Thee must remember what thee has seen, my son," she
said, "for all that thee beholds with the outer eye shall pass away,
while what thee sees with the inner eye abides forever. And had thee a
message, too?"

"It was delivered to me that on the holy Sabbath day I should go to the
camp in Baxter's clearing and preach to the lumbermen."

"Then thee must go, my son."

"I will," he answered, taking her hand affectionately, but with Quaker
restraint, and leading her to the table.

The family, consisting of the mother, an adopted daughter Dorothea, the