Before John retired he wrote to his mother, telling her of the home he had found, and of "The Queen of the Prairie." This rather amused Mrs. Davis, for hitherto, John had had little to say in praise of young ladies, although he was a favorite among them. The summer passed merrily on, and John's vacation was drawing near its close, when one morning he received a telegram telling him that his mother was dangerously sick. The message filled him with anxious foreboding, and he quickly prepared to return home at once. Tears were on Mrs. Long's cheeks as she helped him pack, for she had not realized before to what an extent John had taken her own boy's place in her heart. His own eyes were moist as he bade her farewell, promising to return as soon as possible. Mr. Long was ready with a team to drive him to town, and Lily was standing beside her father. She raised a tear-stained face to him, and said: "Goodbye, dear brother, we shall miss you." John was not ashamed of his own tears, for this little girl who called him "Brother," had grown dearer to him than all the world. He stooped and reverently kissed her snow white brow, then sprang in the buggy and was gone. When John reached home, his father met him at the door. Mr. Davis' face was ghastly pale; he had grown old with grief. John's eyes asked the question his lips could not frame. "She still lives, but the doctor says she cannot last long," said his father in answer to his son's mute appeal. "She is paralyzed. She will probably recognize you, but she can neither speak nor move." Without speaking John went to his mother's bedside, and saw that this was indeed true. His mother lay as one dead. A faint spark of recognition showed in her fast dimming eyes as he approached but other signs of life there were none. Overcome with grief, John stood motionless at the bedside. Then in agony he turned to Him who faileth not, he fell on his knees and prayed reverently for his mother's recovery. His father tried to lead him away, but John continued to pray. Then suddenly in that hour of anguish the grief-stricken man found his God. Kneeling at his son's side, he implored mercy from Him whom hitherto he had denied. All at once Mrs. Davis spoke, "My son." The doctor hastened to her side. In a moment he turned to Mr. Davis and said, "She is better, she will live." Dr. Gordon was an unbeliever, but at that moment he realized that something had control of life, which could act after science had failed. He looked at John who had not yet risen from his knees, at Mr. Davis who was pouring out thanks to the God he had just found, then at the woman who had been saved at the point of death. Like a flash came to him the knowledge of a merciful Christ, and he joined the father and son in their prayer of thanksgiving.