The Passion for Life

by Joseph Hocking

  XXIX

  CHRISTMAS 1915

  Of course the facts are old now, and I need not detail them here. Allthe world knows that Colonel Laycock's soldiers came up in time to gethold of, not only Liddicoat and his accomplice, who proved to bedangerous German spies, but several others who had been in the enemy'sservice for the purpose of conveying petrol to the submarines. Thelittle bay in which I had lived was of great importance to them, and thecave I had discovered was their principal storehouse for petrol. Indeed,since their plot was exposed and our Government officials got hold ofthe facts, submarines have done their work under increasing difficulty.

  Of Father Abraham I heard but little. This, however, is the news whichcame to me: Years before, he had been sent from Germany to act as one oftheir agents, but later on, when he discovered what would be expected ofhim, he left the neighborhood; but before doing so he did his best tocreate the idea that he had been murdered, and that his body had beendisposed of. It seems that he stood in deadly fear of the Germans, andbelieved that he was constantly watched. He was afraid to confess thathe had been acting as a German agent, and that was why he didn't tellthe English authorities what he knew. Why he was so anxious to save mefrom danger I cannot fully comprehend; all I know about him I have setdown in this narrative, and those who read this must draw their ownconclusions. Certain it is that he was never seen in the neighborhood ofSt. Issey again.

  My own recovery was longer than I had hoped for. I grew graduallystronger, but the operation which I had undergone was more serious thanI had imagined, and it was several weeks after I awoke to consciousnessbefore I was allowed to leave my room.

  Dr. Rhomboid, who came twice from London to see me, was very insistenton my taking no risks, and also kept the many visitors who desired tosee me from entering the room.

  Thus for some time after the incidents I have recorded, with theexception of the doctor, who, by the way, was not Dr. Wise, the onlypersons I saw were the nurse, Simpson, and Isabella. As may be imagined,however, I was well looked after, and was not at all sorry at beingdeprived of the companionship of my neighbors. Perhaps, however, I havesaid too much. I did want to see Squire Treherne, and I should have beenglad of a visit from the Vicar; and bearing in mind what Squire Trehernehad said, I wanted to have a chat with Josiah Lethbridge.

  At the end of three weeks I was pronounced sufficiently strong toreceive visitors, and the first who came was Josiah Lethbridge. I hadexpected to see a change in him, but not so great as had actually takenplace. He knew nothing of what had passed between Isabella and myself,because we had arranged to keep everything a secret; but he could nothave treated me more kindly had I been his own child. When I uttered myapologies for the trouble which I had given the family, his lipsquivered and he seemed on the point of breaking down.

  "Please don't mention that," he said. "If you only knew the joy it givesme to know that you are in the house, and that I am in the slightestdegree able to be of service to you, you would not talk in that way. ButI must not try to explain now; the doctor has only given me threeminutes to be with you, so I will only say that I am glad you are here,and that I am eagerly looking forward to the time when we shall see moreof each other and know each other better. I have a great deal to tellyou, my lad. God only knows how much."

  Of the visits of Squire Treherne and Mr. Trelaske I will not speak, saveto say that I well-nigh broke down at the old Squire's behavior.

  "God bless my soul!" ejaculated the old man; "we will give you a timewhen you get well! No, no, not a word from you; you must not talk; butwe _will_ give you a time! We will have the whole countryside _en fete_!It is not only the German plot you have exposed, it is other things, myboy! God bless you!"

  It was not until the beginning of August that I was allowed to leave mybedroom and find my way down-stairs. The nurse and Isabella walked eachside of me, supporting me at each step I took, and when I reached theliving-room I found Mr. and Mrs. Lethbridge awaiting me. I had barelyspoken to Mrs. Lethbridge when I heard a child's cry in the room, and,looking, I saw Mary, Hugh's wife, holding a baby in her arms.

  "Yes," said Josiah Lethbridge with a laugh, "this is a secret that wehave kept in store for you. This is Hugh's child!"

  "Then--then...." I stammered.

  "As soon as my son's wife was well enough I insisted upon her beingbrought to her true home. Mary, my love, bring your baby here where Mr.Erskine can see him. Isn't he a beautiful boy? He was christened a monthago."

  "And what is he called?" I asked.

  "There was only one name to give him," replied Josiah Lethbridgeproudly--"Hugh."

  As I looked into Mary's eyes a sob rose in my throat. I saw the joy ofmotherhood there, I saw infinite tenderness, and more than tenderness.It was a joy chastened by sorrow, by loss unspeakable, by hope eternal.

  "I am so glad, Mary," I said, "so glad. It is as it ought to be, isn'tit?"

  "Isn't he just like his father?" said the young mother proudly. "See hiseyes, his chin--why, he's Hugh all over again!" Then her lips becametremulous, and tears welled up into her eyes.

  "He is a beautiful boy," I said, "and--and...."

  "He's made the house a new place," cried Josiah Lethbridge. "I have madeMary sleep in the next room to mine so that I can hear him when he criesin the night. It does me good to hear a baby cry. Oh, my boy, my boy!"and his voice trembled as he spoke.

  I knew what he was thinking about--knew that he remembered, with a greatsadness in his heart, that he had driven his only son from home; knewthat he suffered unspeakable sorrow; and I could see that he was adifferent man.

  "Isn't God good to us?" he said huskily; "and--and--Mary's forgiven metoo, haven't you, my love?"

  He put his arm around the young widow's waist as he spoke and kissedher.

  "It's the baby who has done everything," said Mrs. Lethbridge. "The newsthat he was born came in the middle of the night, and when Josiah heardthat both mother and child were well, he could not stay in bed; he gotup and tramped around the room like a man beside himself. 'She must comehome,' he said, 'home, and bring her baby with her.' Oh, it's wonderful,wonderful!"

  "And you, Mary," said I, "are you well again?"

  The simple-hearted girl turned to me with a wan smile.

  "When the news came to me first about Hugh," she said, "I thought Ishould have died; I wanted to die; life seemed hateful to me;then--then--when my boy was born, oh, he made all the difference! I knowHugh is not dead, he lives in heaven, and he is watching over us. Youbelieve that too, don't you, Mr. Erskine?"

  "I don't believe in death," I replied; "there is no death, only seemingdeath."

  "Do you remember what I said to you, Erskine, when I saw you months agoin your little hut?" said Josiah Lethbridge. "I said that God Almightymust be laughing at us. Now I know I was wrong."

  "Yes?" I said questioningly.

  "God Almighty never laughs at us," said Josiah Lethbridge. "He isrevealed to us by His Son, and Jesus wept at the graveside of Lazarus.He weeps at all the sorrow and pain of the world. Jesus wept evenalthough He knew He would raise Lazarus from the dead, and God weeps atour follies and our madness even although He, in His Eternal Love, isworking out for us all a greater salvation. Oh, we are fools, my lad! Wemeasure His purposes by our little foot-rule; we explain His Willaccording to the standard of our puny minds; we measure events by daysand years; but God lives, and works His own Sovereign Will. It has allcome to me lately. I have gone through deep waters, my lad; the wavesand the billows have well-nigh overwhelmed me; but that little baby hasmade all the difference; my boy lives again in him."

  I was silent, I remember; there seemed nothing to say. What were wordsat such a time as that? Deep had called unto deep, and the Voice of Godhad been heard in the mysterious happenings of life.

  I found my way to a chair close by a window, through which I looked outon the lawn, and at the flowers which surrounded it. It was about threeo'clock in the afternoon, and the sun had begun to sink, although theday was yet gloriou
s. Beyond the trees of the park I could see the wildmoorland, and between two rugged tors I caught the shimmer of the sea.

  The nurse had left the room by this time, and none but the members ofthe family except myself remained. I could not help realizing the changethat had taken place. When I had first entered the house the atmospherewas cold, hard, unpleasant. Josiah Lethbridge was in the height of hisprosperity, and he had his wife and children around him; his life didnot seem to be touched with care or sorrow; no clouds seemed to hang inhis sky. Now the death-reaper had come and had taken his only son; yetit was a far happier home than then. Josiah Lethbridge had beenembittered towards his son, because the latter loved a simple-mindedfarmer's daughter; he had even driven his son from home, because the ladwould be true to his heart and marry the girl he loved. Now he had takenthis girl to his arms; he had brought her and her baby to his home.There was sorrow in the house, but it was a chastened sorrow, a sorrowillumined by faith and love.

  "Oh, if my boy had only lived!" said Josiah Lethbridge; "if he had onlybeen spared to see this day, I think my cup of happiness would be full;but God Almighty never makes a mistake."

  "No," I said, "He never makes a mistake."

  "Do you say that, Erskine?"

  "Yes, I say it," I replied, thinking of my own experiences andremembering the life that had come to me. "Yes, I say it."

  "It is a ghastly thing, is this war," he went on. "I become bewildered,maddened, when I think about it. I can't explain it, I can't even see afar-off glimpse of explanation, when I think of this life only. When Ithink of the suffering, of the waste of life, the sorrow, theunutterable sorrow of tens of thousands of homes;--it's all so foolish,so--so--mad. But that is not God's doing, my boy; besides, even in itall, through it all, He's working His Will. Life is being purified; menare learning their lessons. I know it, Great God, I know it! The nationsof Europe were in danger of forgetting God, and now are realizing theirfoolishness. But oh, if my Hugh had lived! If I could see him comingacross the lawn as I used to see him, if I could hear him laugh in hisold boyish way! But he is dead."

  "No, Mr. Lethbridge," I said, "he is not dead; there is no death, ofthat I am certain; there is no death. God lives, and because He livesHis children live always. I agree with you about the ghastliness, thesinfulness, the madness of war; but this war has told me that theeternal life in man laughs at death. What we call death is not an end oflife, it is only a beginning. This life is only a fragment of life; thatat all events I have learnt."

  I looked around the room and found that we were alone. Mary had takenaway her baby, while Mrs. Lethbridge and Isabella had, for some reason,left the room.

  "You speak like one who knows," said Josiah Lethbridge; "you talk like aman who has seen things."

  "Yes," I said, "I have seen things."

  "And you have rendered great service to your country too. Have you readwhat the papers have said about you?"

  "No," I replied, "I don't know that I have troubled about them. Afterall, those were only incidents; there are more important things thanthose."

  He looked at me curiously.

  "I know what you have experienced and suffered," I said, "and I knowwhat your suffering has done for you; but you know little of my story; Iwant to tell you more about it."

  "Yes, yes, tell me!" he said eagerly.

  And I told him--told him of the doctor's verdict; told him of my longingfor life; told him much that I have set down in these pages.

  "I can't explain it," I said, when I came to describe the experiencesthrough which I had passed after the great darkness fell upon me, "but IKNOW, I SAW."

  "You felt that, saw that?"

  "God and immortality are not matters of faith to me now, Mr. Lethbridge;they are matters of consciousness; that is why I am so certain aboutHugh. He is not dead. A lad who could do what he did had Eternal Life inhim. God is here all the while; it is only our blindness that keeps usfrom seeing Him. Hugh is still your son. There are only two eternalthings, Mr. Lethbridge."

  "Two eternal things," he repeated, "only two?"

  "Life, love. That leads me to what I want to say to you now."

  He looked at me with keen interest.

  "I love Isabella," I said simply. "Haven't you guessed it?"

  "What! Do you mean----?"

  "I do," I said. "Will you give her to me?"

  "I--I have seen a change in her lately, and--and----But, my dearboy----"

  "I am afraid I am what you will call a poor match," I went on. "Thedoctor says it will be months before I shall be fully strong again,although he promises me that I shall be able to resume my old professionin a couple of months from now. Perhaps my clients will have forgottenme; still, I think I can get some new ones; my reputation seems to bebetter than I thought it was. Besides, if I become fully strong again, Ishall feel it my duty to offer my services to the country; so I shall bea poor match, I am afraid, but I love her."

  "And she?" he asked.

  "She knows all I have told you," I replied.

  "And--and--that has made all the change in her then. Why--why----"

  "Will you give her to me, Mr. Lethbridge?" I repeated. "Will you let metake Hugh's place as far as I can? I will give my life to make herhappy."

  His astonishment seemed too great for words; several times he attemptedto speak, but broke down each time.

  "But, Erskine, my lad," he said at length, "Erskine----"

  "You will, won't you, dad? If you don't, I shall run away with Frank!"

  I had no knowledge that Isabella had been there, but, turning, I saw herstanding behind me with love-lit eyes.

  "Oh, dad, you won't refuse, will you?"

  "Refuse?" he cried. "God bless my soul!--but--but--it's the very thing Iwould have chosen!" and then this stern, strong man sobbed like a child.

  "We are having tea on the lawn," said Mrs. Lethbridge, entering the roomat that moment. "Why, what's the meaning of this?"

  When she knew what had taken place, she threw her arms around my neck,and kissed me.

  "I have seen it for months," she declared presently. "Oh, yes, youneedn't laugh at me; I saw--trust a mother's eyes."

  That was the happiest evening I had ever known. I will not try todescribe it, words seem so poor, so utterly insufficient. We were likethose who had come safe into harbor after a voyage across a gray,trackless, stormy sea. We shuddered at the thought of the voyage; but wewere glad we had undergone the suffering.

  "I never knew dad so happy in my life," said Isabella to me as she bademe good-night. "Do you know, that in spite of everything I was afraidthat he might--he might refuse? Oh, my love, my love, if Hugh had onlylived to see us all!"

  "He does see us," I ventured.

  "Yes, but if he could be here amongst us, if he could see how fathertreats Mary, how he loves the baby, how happy mother is, andhow--I--I----Oh, how I hate bidding you good-night, but we shall meetagain in the morning."

  "Yes, we shall meet in the morning," I said, with a glad heart.

  * * * * *

  I thought my story had come to an end here, that I had no more torelate, but an event has just happened which I must set down, or thisnarrative will be incomplete.

  I had returned to London and taken up my life where I had dropped it. Iwas still comparatively weak, but strong enough to do the work whichfell to me.

  As the weeks passed by, clients came to me as of old, and I found myselfhaving to refuse briefs. I was glad of this, because I wanted to showJosiah Lethbridge, when I went to Cornwall for Christmas, that I was nothelpless, and that I was able to provide a home for his child. I found,too, although the doctors refused me when I offered myself for the Army,that my strength was daily increasing. Indeed, so far had I recoveredmyself that near the end of the term I was able to carry through adifficult case, and in spite of being opposed by a barrister of nationalreputation, I was able to win it.

  I had hoped to go to Cornwall at the beginning of the Christmasvacation, but I fo
und that my success had led to so much work that itwas not until Christmas Eve that I was able to get away.

  "Simpson," I said on the Thursday night, "I want you to get my bag inreadiness in time for me to catch the Riviera express to-morrow morning.You know what things I shall want, Simpson; I shall be away about afortnight, I hope."

  "Yes, sir."

  But Simpson didn't leave me as usual.

  "What is the matter, Simpson? Is there anything you wish to say?"

  "Well, sir, as you are going to Cornwall, I thought--that is--you see,there might not be room at Mr. Lethbridge's house for me; but the littlehut on the cliff is still empty, and I could sleep there."

  "You want to go, do you, Simpson?"

  "Well, sir----"

  "All right," I laughed, "you be ready to come with me." Whereupon hehurried away with a glad look in his eyes.

  Isabella met me at the station on Christmas Eve. It was about fiveo'clock when the train drew up, and when I stepped on the platform shesobbed like one overcome.

  "What is the matter?" I asked.

  "I--I was afraid you would not come--afraid lest something shouldhappen."

  "Why, what should happen?"

  "I don't know, only--even now it seems too good to be true. But there,you have come. Let me look at you again and make sure."

  "Have you any visitors?" I asked presently.

  "No; dad would not have any, but he's inviting Mr. Treleaven and hiswife over to dinner to-morrow. You see, he's so anxious to make Maryhappy. Do you know, Frank," and she laughed joyfully, "he seems to thinkof himself as your guardian. He has asked me twenty times to-day whattime you are coming, and whether I have had any telegrams from you, andhosts of other things. I have been waiting at the station for an hour.He ordered Jenkins to bring around the car an hour too soon. He has readall about that trial a dozen times, and he is--he is proud of you,Frank!"

  Oh, it was good to be in Cornwall again, good to breathe the pure air,and to smell the salt of the sea. As the motor dashed through St. IsseyI thought of the time I had first seen it, and remembered the weightthat had rested upon my heart.

  "I have spent all the morning helping to decorate the Chapel," saidIsabella, looking towards that structure as we passed it. "We are goingto have a special service there to-morrow. Oh, it is good to have you,Frank."

  A few minutes later we drew up to the entrance of Trecarrel, where bothMr. and Mrs. Lethbridge stood waiting to greet me, while behind them wasMary, holding her baby in her arms.

  "Is he not a beauty, Frank?" she said, holding him up to me. "He isbeginning to know such a lot of things too. He knows grandad, granny,and Isabella; you should see him laugh when they come into the room!"

  "Now, Frank, warm yourself before you go up to dress," cried JosiahLethbridge. "Mother, is the fire in Frank's room all right? He will becold and tired, you know."

  "Nonsense, Josiah; the fire has been burning there for hours."

  "Well, I ordered it to be laid this morning," said the old man, "andwhen I went into the room at twelve o'clock the servants had not doneit. Ah, but you are welcome, my boy; we will have a grand Christmas,"and then he sighed.

  I knew what he was thinking about, but I was so happy that I had almostforgotten Hugh when I entered the drawing-room and found Isabellaawaiting me.

  "I have got this new frock especially for you, Your Lordship. How do youlike it?" she said, and my heart leapt as I saw the light in her eyes.

  "If you had a decent figure it would look very well," I said, with alaugh; "but you know, even dressmakers can't ..."

  After this I had to show contrition for my rudeness.

  "You should have seen the hampers that dad has sent to the trenches,"she said presently. "All the men in Hugh's company have been remembered.Oh, Frank, there is such a difference in dad; he is not the same man heused to be. He is great friends now with the Vicar, and with SquireTreherne, and all of them."

  Precisely at seven o'clock we found our way into the dining-room. Theapartment was resplendent with Christmas decorations; everywhere thefeeling of Christmas abounded. There were only five of us to sit down todinner--Mr. and Mrs. Lethbridge, Mary, Isabella, and myself--but sixchairs were placed. The empty chair was at the end of the table oppositeMr. Lethbridge, and everything had been arranged as though the chair wasexpected to be occupied. All of us noted it, although no one spoke aloudconcerning it.

  "Dad ordered it," said Isabella to me; "he would have it so."

  We took our places at the dinner-table, and then Josiah Lethbridge said:

  "We will sing the old Grace, children."

  "We thank Thee, Lord, for this our food, But more because of Jesu's love. Let manna to our souls be given, The bread of life sent...."

  But we never finished the last line; we heard a quick step in the halloutside, a bustling noise, then the dining-room door opened, and HughLethbridge, pale and wan, but still tall and erect, clad in an officer'suniform, came into the room!

  For a moment he seemed to be dazzled by the light, and walked withuncertain footsteps, while we stood silent with amazement. Then hecaught the look on his wife's face.

  "It's Hugh!" she gasped.

  Hugh rushed towards her, and a second later they were locked in eachother's arms.

  "My wife! My Mary!" he cried.

  I will not try to describe what followed, nor attempt to tell how themother fell upon her boy's neck with fond words of endearment; howJosiah Lethbridge put his hand upon his boy's head, felt his shouldersand his arms, and patted him with infinite tenderness as though hewanted to assure himself that it was really he and not his spirit; howIsabella kissed him again and again, with all sorts of endearing terms;and how Hugh and I shook hands at least twenty times.

  "And it is not vacant after all," said Josiah Lethbridge, as he saw hisson sitting in the chair which had been placed opposite him. "Oh, thankGod! Thank God!"

  Of course Hugh had a long story to tell. It seems that in the excitementof battle, after the German officer had shot him, he was left for dead,and then, before the stretcher-bearers came to him, he had crawled away,and it was believed that he had been buried with the others who werekilled that night.

  Hugh's description was extremely hazy, because he himself scarcely knewwhat happened to him. When he awoke to consciousness he found himself ina French peasant's hut within the German lines, and here he was kept andnursed by the owners. It seemed a miracle that he should have escaped,but these peasants, seeing that he was English and hating the Germans,kept their secret well. Month after month he lay ill, and even when atlength he was well enough to get up, his memory had gone, and he couldtell nothing about himself nor what he wanted to do. By and by, however,when his faculties were restored to him, he realized the difficulties ofhis situation, and for a long time he schemed and planned how to getthrough the German lines and find his way back to his friends.

  I will not trouble the reader with a recital of all he went through;suffice it to say that he at length succeeded, and was received by hisold comrades as a man risen from the dead. As may be imagined, no soonerdid he get among the English than all his difficulties vanished. A newuniform and money were given to him, with a lengthy leave of absence. Hewas careful, too, to impress upon his superior officers that he didn'twant any news concerning his safety to arrive in England before hehimself got there. He wanted to give his people a surprise, he said.This being easily arranged, Hugh returned to England, and arrived inCornwall on Christmas Eve. He decided first of all to go straight toJohn Treleaven's farm, where he hoped to find his wife, but learningthat she had gone to Trecarrel, he with a great wonder in his heart hadhurried to his old home.

  The lights of Trecarrel never went out that night. It was JosiahLethbridge's will that they should not. Besides, we all had so much tosay. Hugh would have the baby brought into the room, and JosiahLethbridge insisted that Mary's father and mother should be fetchedimmediately. And then Hugh had to tell his story at least six timesover, and we all
wondered and exclaimed at each recital.

  The wonder of that night will never leave me. I had thought that I couldnever be so happy again as on the evening when Josiah Lethbridge told mehe would give Isabella to me for my wife. But that Christmas Eve whenHugh came and the Christmas morning which followed were more wonderfulstill. Never shall I forget how the soldier lad held his baby in hisarms, and looked at it with infinite tenderness and wonder; while hiswife, who had believed him dead, clung to him, uttering fond, endearingterms all the while. Never shall I forget how Mrs. Lethbridge went fromone to another, with tears of joy streaming down her face, or how JosiahLethbridge, the old hard look gone from his eyes, told his childrenagain and again how he loved them.

  I will leave my narrative here. My tale is told, even while it is notfinished. While I write, guns are booming, and the war between thenations goes on; but I do not fear.

  "For Right is Right, since God is God, And Right the day must win."

  This great world carnage is horrible beyond words, its madness isinexpressible, but beyond all is God. He has many ways of teaching Hislessons, and He is now speaking to us out of the whirlwind and out ofthe fire.

  _Printed in the United States of America_

  * * * * *

  [Transcriber's Notes: Some odd spellings have been retained as typeset,i.e., "unforgetable".]

  * * * * *

  FICTION, JUVENILE, ETC.

  _J. J. BELL_

  _Author of "Wee Macgreegor," etc._

  Just Jemima

  Another "Mile of Smiles" with J. J. Bell. His latest creation is markedby the same dry, pungent humor for which he has long been noted, and"Just Jemima" will quickly take its place next to "Wee MacGreegor," "Oh,Christina!" "Johnny Pryde," and Bell's other books, over which millionshave laughed and rejoiced.

  _WINIFRED ARNOLD_

  _Author of "Little Merry Christmas"_

  Miss Emeline's Kith and Kin

  A capital portrayal of American country life as it is lived in thevillages of New England. Miss Emeline's dealings with her "kith and kin"make up a most diverting narrative, one certain to win for Miss Arnoldlarge additions to the friends she made with "Mis' Bassett" and "LittleMerry Christmas."

  _DILLON WALLACE_

  The Ragged Inlet Guards

  A Story of Adventure in Labrador.

  In Wallace's latest story a wartime setting is given to the fascinatingLabrador stage. The four "Inlet Guards" furnish round after round ofexciting adventures, including the thrilling capture of a Germanwireless station, while their seniors were fighting "over seas."

  _MARY STEWART_

  _Author of "Once-Upon-a-Time Tales"_

  "Tell Me a Story I Never Heard Before"

  With deft and practiced art, Miss Stewart weaves a modern garland out ofblossoms of story-telling as old as the ages. About the Daisy, theFleur-de-lys, the Pansy, the Tulip, and so forth, she has entwinedold-world legends of the days of chivalry, of high adventure, ofpastoral romance.

  _S. HALL YOUNG_

  _Author of "Alaska Days with John Muir," "The Klondike Clan," etc_

  Adventures in Alaska

  "When a man's actual experiences are more interesting than ingeniousinvention, he is wise if he avoids fiction and writes a straightnarrative of his adventures. This is what Dr. Young has done in thisillustrated account of some of his remarkable experiences during overthirty years work in Alaska."--_The Outlook._

  * * * * *

  WORTH WHILE FICTION

  _NORMAN DUNCAN_

  _Author of "Dr. Luke of the Labrador"_

  Battles Royal Down North

  Appreciation by Dr. Wilfred T. Grenfell.

  Sir Wm. Robertson Nicoll, LL.D.: "No one can read Mr. Norman Duncan'smarvellous Newfoundland fisher idylls without feeling that an EnglishPierre Loti has arisen, a mystic of the unfathomable deeps."

  Harbor Tales Down North

  Appreciation by Dr. Wilfred T. Grenfell.

  Honore Willsie, in _The New York Times Magazine_. "We lost the bestshort story writer in the country when Norman Duncan died."

  _MARY CAROLINE HOLMES_

  The Knock on the Door

  A Story of To-day.

  The story of a young man and woman who institute a search for the faiththey have outgrown. Cynthia Holden, the girl, goes far on her quest,leaving Jim Trefethen, a young clergyman to whom she is engaged, to"tread the wine-press alone." The ending is a happy one, with anunexpected vision of a good Samaritan, ministering to an oppressedpeople who had fallen among thieves because of the war.

  _BURRIS A. JENKINS_

  It Happened "Over There"

  A story of an American aviator and an English "lady of high degree." Dr.Jenkins' book is permeated with the atmosphere of these thrillingheart-searching days, and succeeds in visualizing sights and scenes,which set forth the unspeakable infamy of the Hun, and the unflinching,indomitable spirit of the Allies, one and all determined to work, sufferand endure to the end.

  _J. J. BELL_

  _Author of "Wee Macgreegor"_

  Johnny Pryde

  "Should be read aloud--otherwise the family circle wants to know whatthe joke is every time you laugh. There's a good laugh in everychapter--sometimes half a dozen, and it has the real J. J. Belltouch."--_New York Evening Sun._

  * * * * *

  STORIES FOR LIVE BOYS

  _DILLON WALLACE_

  _Author "The Lure of the Labrador Wild," "Ungava Bob," etc._

  Grit-A-Plenty

  A Tale of the Labrador Wild.

  Dillon Wallace, the famous Labrador explorer, has written another bookfor boys, of that bleak, hard-bitten region which for interest andappeal will press hard his other popular stories of boy life inLabrador. For adventure and realism of the most healthful sort, boyswill find it difficult indeed to beat this latest story from thesurviving companion of Leonidas Hubbard, Jr., the Labrador explorer.

  _EDWARD A. STEINER_

  Uncle Joe's Lincoln

  The popular author of "On the Trail of the Immigrant" has written fewworks of greater appeal than this delightful story of the influence ofthe life of Abraham Lincoln upon the boys of a far away land, most ofwhom eventually found their way to the United States.

  _EDWIN C. BURRITT_

  _Author of "Boy Scout Crusoes"_

  Cameron Island

  Further Adventures in the South Seas.

  The success of "Boy Scout Crusoes" has furnished the incentive for a newstory of the same sort of thrilling adventures. Here are many new andwonderful bits of natural history which every wide-awake boy will findnot only interesting but instructive as well.

  _ALBERT LEE, F.R.G.S._

  At His Country's Call

  A Tale of the Great War for Boys.

  Lt.-Gen. Sir R. Baden-Powell says: "A most exciting yarn for boys whichshould arouse their spirit of patriotic adoration."

  Here is a story of the Great War that will make any full-blooded boy situp nights to arrive at the end. One climax succeeds another until itseems as though every adventure and incident occurring in modern warfarehas been woven into this fascinating book.

  * * * * *

  NEW EDITIONS

  _S. HALL YOUNG_

  Alaska Days with John Muir

  "Do you remember Stickeen, the canine hero of John Muir's famous dogstory? Here is a book by the man who owned Stickeen and who was Muir'scompanion on that adventurous trip among the Alaskan glaciers. This isnot only a breezy outdoor book, full of the wild beauties of the Alaskanwilderness; it is also a living portrait of John Muir in the greatmoments of his career."--_New York Times._

  _S. R. CROCKETT_

  _Author of "Silver Sand," etc._

  Hal 'o the Ironsides: A Story of the Days of Cromwell

  "Crockett's last story. A rip-roaring tale of the days of the greatOliver--days when the dogs of war were let l
oose in English meadows, andthe gallants of England struck home for the King."--_Examiner._

  _FANNY CROSBY_

  Fanny Crosby's Story of Ninety-Four Years

  By S. Trevena Jackson.

  "This is, in a way, an autobiography, for it is the story of FannyCrosby's life as she told it to her friend, who retells it in thischarming book. All lovers of the blind hymn writer ought to read thisvolume. It tells a story of pathos and of cheer. It will strengthen thefaith and cheer the heart of every reader."--_Watchman-Examiner._

  _PROF. HUGH BLACK_

  The New World

  "Dr. Black is a strong thinker and a clear, forcible writer. Here heanalyzes national tendencies toward unrest--social, material, religious.This he does with moderation yet with courage, and always withhopefulness."--_The Outlook._

  _S. M. ZWEMER, D.D., F.R.G.S._

  _Author of "Arabia," etc._

  Childhood in the Moslem World

  "The claims of millions of children living and dying under the blightinginfluence of Islam are set forth with graphic fidelity. Both in text andillustrations, Dr. Zwemer's new book covers much ground hitherto lyinguntouched in Mohammedan literature."--_Christian Work._

  * * * * *

  ABOUT OTHER LANDS

  _HENRY CHUNG_

  The Oriental Policy of the United States

  A plea for the policy of the Open Door in China, presented by anoriental scholar of broad training and deep sympathies. The history ofAmerican diplomatic relationships with the Orient, the development ofthe various policies and influences of the western powers in China, andthe imperilistic aspirations of Japan are set forth admirably.

  _CHARLES KENDALL HARRINGTON_

  _Missionary Amer. Baptist Foreign Miss. Society to Japan_

  Captain Bickel of the Inland Sea

  "Especially valuable at this hour, because it throws a flood of light onmany conditions in the Orient in which all students of religious andsocial questions are especially interested. We would suggest thatpastors generally retell the story at some Sunday evening service, forhere is a story sensational, thrilling, informing and at the same time astory of great spiritual urgency and power."--_Watchman-Examiner._

  _HARRIET NEWELL NOYES_

  _Canton, China_

  A Light in the Land of Sinim

  Forty-five Years in the True Light Seminary, 1872-1917.

  "An authoritative account of the work undertaken and achieved by theTrue Light Seminary, Canton, China. Mrs. Noyes has devoted practicallyher whole life to this sphere of Christian service, and the record herepresented is that of her own labors and those associated with her inmissionary activity in China, covering a period of more than forty-fiveyears."--_Christian Work._

  _MRS. H. G. UNDERWOOD_

  Underwood of Korea

  A Record of the Life and Work of Horace G. Underwood, D.D.

  "An intimate and captivating story of one who labored nobly andfaithfully in Korea for thirty-one years, presenting his character,consecration, faith, and indomitable courage."--_Missions._

  * * * * *

  BIOGRAPHY AND REMINISCENCES

  _JAMES M. LUDLOW, D.D., Litt.D._

  _Author of "The Captain of the Janizaries," "Deborah," etc._

  Along the Friendly Way

  Dr. Ludlow has observed keenly, and thought wisely and deeply; he hasread extensively, traveled widely, and rubbed elbows and wits with mengreat and little of many nations and under varying conditions. He is the"full man" of which the philosopher speaks. And all these intellectualand spiritual riches garnered from many harvests he spreads before thereader in a style that is remarkable for its felicity of phrasing, thecolor of its varied imagery, and its humor, warmth, and human sympathy.

  _HERBERT H. GOWEN, F.R.G.S._

  The Napoleon of the Pacific: Kamehameha the Great

  The history of the great chieftian who, in the closing years of theeighteenth century, effected the union of the eight islands of theHawaiian Archipelago and welded them into a kingdom. Both student andgeneral reader will find THE NAPOLEON OF THE PACIFIC a richly-storedmine of deeply interesting information, extremely difficult to come atin any other form.

  _CLARA E. LAUGHLIN_

  Foch the Man

  W. B. McCormick in the _N. Y. Sun_ says: "Miss Laughlin has let nothingescape her that will throw light on the development of his character. Arevelation of the man who at sixty-seven put the crowning touch to thecomplete defeat of Germany's military pretensions."

  _FREDERICK LYNCH, D.D._

  The One Great Society

  Records of some personal reminiscences and recollections of the author,who, as preacher, editor and prominent member of one or twointernational organisations, has met many of the world's prominent menin the fields of divinity, philanthropy, literature and reform.