girls are so prone to give; and the young man,
with a great softness at his heart, went away, as
many another John has gone, feeling better for the
companionship of innocent maidenhood, and
stronger to wrestle with temptation, to wait and
hope and work.

"Let's throw a shoe after him for luck, as dear
old 'Mrs. Gummage' did after 'David' and the
'willin' Barkis!' Quick, Nan! you always have
old shoes on; toss one, and shout, 'Good luck!'"
cried Di, with one of her eccentric inspirations.

Nan tore off her shoe, and threw it far along the
dusty road, with a sudden longing to become that
auspicious article of apparel, that the omen might
not fail.

Looking backward from the hill-top, John answered
the meek shout cheerily, and took in the
group with a lingering glance: Laura in the shadow
of the elms, Di perched on the fence, and Nan
leaning far over the gate with her hand above her
eyes and the sunshine touching her brown hair
with gold. He waved his hat and turned away;
but the music seemed to die out of the blackbird's
song, and in all the summer landscape his eyes saw
nothing but the little figure at the gate.

"Bless and save us! here's a flock of people