and across the valleys. The White Lady looked on smiling, now and then patting the wolf at her feet, and again whispering a word to her Guardian Angel.

At last the old chief said: "Stop them! Stop them! You may have all the land you want!"

Lifting her hand, the White Lady gave a signal to her maidens to return to her. The chief ordered his men to show the White Lady all his lands and to allow her to choose her own.

"My Lady," he said with low voice and humble manner, "Jesus, for whom you labor, has given you great power. You can do more wonderful things than the fairies or the giants can do. Hereafter I shall serve your Jesus and be your humble servant."

The world knows our fair White Lady by the name of Saint Bridget of Ireland; and the Church has appointed as her feast the first day of February.

If all were perfect, what then would we have to bear with from others for the love of God? -Thomas à Kempis.

He doth well, who regardeth rather the common good than his own will.

-Ibid.

In the highest civilization the book is still the highest delight. -Emerson.

WAS ROB STUPID?

ELLA REARDON BAIRD

ELLA REARDON BAIRD, an American educator, was born in the northern part of the State of New York, near the town of Malone. She showed a love for books and study in her childhood, and in the schools she was always in classes with pupils much older than herself. When seventeen she graduated from a classical school, the only girl in a large class, the majority of whom were preparing for college. Later she graduated from the Normal School at Oswego, N. Y., and also took a course in professional training in the department

for criticism and in the Clark University, in Worcester, Massachusetts.

She has been a most successful teacher. The schools of the city of Toledo became famous under her training and teaching as supervisor of the Elementary grades. She has contributed valuable articles to many of the educational magazines, and on one occasion won a national prize for an essay on methods. Many of the leading educators of the country were her competitors. In institutes, conventions, and other educational meetings she has been a strong factor, always exercising a hopeful and uplifting influence.

"I can pay you only seventeen cents down, Mr. Green, but I'll pay you the rest when berrying time is over;" and the barefooted, rosy-cheeked boy looked wistfully from the farmer's stern face down at the black, curly puppy that was frolicking at his feet.

A decided "No" had risen to the lips of the close-fisted man, but when Rob looked up again there was such a plead

ing expression in the big blue eyes, that the man checked himself and said gruffly, "Your dog died yesterday. What ailed him?"

"Why, you see, Mr. Green, Tige was old, awfully old, older than I am. He hasn't been frisky lately at all, but he wasn't real sick, and yesterday he just died;"—here Rob's lips began to quiver,-" and last night I had to go for the cows alone. I never went without Tige before in my life, and they had crossed the river; if Tige had been with me he could have swum across and got them, but I had to go round by the bridge, and it was dark when I got home, and I was awful lonesome without Tige." By this time genuine tears were running down the boy's cheeks,-Tige had certainly left a sincere mourner, and the child's grief really touched the farmer, for after a moment he said:

"But that puppy is too small to go after the cows, or even to walk to the pasture."

"Yes, sir, I know that, but he could walk some and I could carry him some, and he would be company for me. It don't take puppies long to grow, does it? I am afraid I couldn't earn enough to pay for a big dog like Tige, but I'll pay for the puppy if you'll trust me till berrying time."

"Well, well, take him then, but remember he is worth two dollars, and see to it that you pay for him before the summer is over."

"Yes, sir, I'll pay it." Rob took an old purse from his pocket, counted out seventeen cents, laid them in the farmer's grimy palm, then stooping to catch the puppy, he

WAS ROB STUPID?

95

started through the fields, carrying his four-footed prize in his arms.

Rob was the youngest of a family of five. His home, a humble little farmhouse, stood perched like a bird's nest high up among the hills of Vermont. On all sides, as far as the eye could reach, rose the rugged peaks of the Green Mountains; while among the hills the river wound in and out, on its way to that fairest of lakes-Champlain. Here was a wealth of beauty in land and sky, but though nature is beautiful, she is not bountiful on these hillside farms, save in the priceless gift of patient industry and unswerving integrity, often her sole bequest.

Rob's oldest brother, John, a noble, unselfish young man, had been for some years at work in the city. The stern training of his earlier years had developed a character of sterling worth. He was now earning a fair salary, a portion of which always came to bring comfort to those at home.

The family consisted of their parents, Rob, his two brothers, Dick and Jim, and a sister, Kate. Dick and Jim helped with the farm work summers, but went to school winters; Kate assisted her mother with the housework; and nine-year-old Rob did the chores and went to school.

O that school! With all the energy of his healthy little heart Rob hated it. Couldn't see what schools were for, anyhow; just to keep a fellow in, when it was the best time to slide or skate or "sugar off." He couldn't learn to read; couldn't tell p from q, nor m from n; of course he couldn't