faculties which had not yet handed in their vouchers to himself. For, as
the conscience of many a man seems never to trouble him until the look
of his neighbors bring their consciences to bear upon his, so the mind
of many a man seems never to satisfy him that he has a gift until other
men grant his possession of it. Around Walter, nevertheless, the world
broke at once into rare bloom. He became like a windy day in the house,
vexing his aunt with his loud, foolish gladness, and causing the wise
heart of Molly many a sudden, chilly foreboding. She knew him better
than his father knew him. His father had not played whole days with him,
and day after day! She knew that happiness made him feel strong for
anything, but that his happiness was easily dashed, and he was then a
rain-wet, wind-beaten butterfly. He had no soul for bad weather. He
could not therefore be kept in wadding, however! He must have his trial;
must, in one way or another, encounter life, and disclose what amount of
the real might be in him--what little, but enlargeable claim he might
have to manhood!




CHAPTER VI.


FROM HOME.

Every morning, a man may say,
Calls him up with a new birth-day;
Every day is a little life,
Sunny with love, stormy with strife;
Every life is a little death,