the steps. As he went up into his study he saw from his hall window
that the man was going slowly down the street, still holding his hat
between his hands. There was something in the figure so dejected,
homeless and forsaken that the minister hesitated a moment as he
stood looking at it. Then he turned to his desk and with a sigh
began the writing where he had left off.

He had no more interruptions, and when his wife came in two hours
later the sermon was finished, the loose leaves gathered up and
neatly tied together, and laid on his Bible all ready for the Sunday
morning service.

"A queer thing happened at the kindergarten this morning, Henry,"
said his wife while they were eating dinner. "You know I went over
with Mrs, Brown to visit the school, and just after the games, while
the children were at the tables, the door opened and a young man
came in holding a dirty hat in both hands. He sat down near the door
and never said a word; only looked at the children. He was evidently
a tramp, and Miss Wren and her assistant Miss Kyle were a little
frightened at first, but he sat there very quietly and after a few
minutes he went out."

"Perhaps he was tired and wanted to rest somewhere. The same man
called here, I think. Did you say he looked like a tramp?"

"Yes, very dusty, shabby and generally tramp-like. Not more than
thirty or thirty-three years old, I should say."

"The same man," said the Rev. Henry Maxwell thoughtfully.