he could not be moved, the doctor said.

Two weeks of John's illness had worn away,
when a very serious-looking young man, in a traveling
duster, and a high hat, came up the stairs to
see him. A handsome young lady was clinging to
his arm. It was Bert and Josie. She had guessed
the very date of their forgiveness. John awoke
even clearer in mind than usual that afternoon. He
recognized his old chum at a glance, and Josie--
now Bert's wife. Yes, he comprehended that. He
was holding a hand of each when another figure
entered. His thin white fingers loosened their clasp,
and he held a hand toward the newcomer. "Here,"
he said, "is my best friend in the world--Bert, you
and Josie will love her, I know; for this is Mrs.--
Mrs."--"Mrs. Miller," said the radiant little woman.
--"Yes,--Mrs. Miller," said John, very proudly.



AT ZEKESBURY

The little town, as I recall it, was of just enough
dignity and dearth of the same to be an ordinary
county seat in Indiana--"The Grand Old
Hoosier State," as it was used to being howlingly
referred to by the forensic stump orator from the
old stand in the court-house yard--a political
campaign being the wildest delight that Zekesbury