As I walked away from old Chestnut Hill, I gave one last, lingering look. It was now daybreak, and as I gazed down on the little village where I had spent so many happy days I saw that all of Deacon Hobbs' wealth had ascended into smoke. Stubbs' old store looked as dingy and dirty as ever. Father's church, on which I had often looked so fondly, now seemed silently waiting to catch the first glimmer of the morning sun as it came to give light and life to the hills and valleys of old New England. Father Shepherd's house, the door through which I had passed so many times with a light heart, were all plain to my view. Once more I looked through the trees to the grave of Fanny and walked away. ALONE IN THE WILDERNESS About noon, the first day out, I met three Indians and we took lunch together, they furnishing bear meat and I cheese and crackers, which I had borrowed from Stubbs. After this I trudged on, following an old trail in a westerly direction, hoping to find Indians who could give me shelter for the night, but finding none, I started a fire at dark to scare the wolves away and prepared to stay in the woods alone. As darkness came on and my fire lit up the woods, I was lonely and yearned for a friend, while a strangeness came over me which caused me to shudder. The excitement had past, and I was left to contemplate as to the course I had taken and where my pathway of life might be leading me. I saw myself, as only a short time before, a promising young man of the wild wood harbor village; but now alone in the wilderness, soon to be a ragged, friendless outcast. Was my condition better or worse than Fanny's or father's? Silently I knelt and implored the unseen to forgive all and keep me pure in heart as I wended my way over mountains of trouble and through vales of temptation. While pondering I heard the flapping of wings, and a large owl came and lit on a dry limb above me and began its lonely hooting. The night was still, save the occasional bark of a wolf and the echo of the bird's dreary chant, which under ordinary circumstances would have startled me, but now rising to my feet I gazed at the intruder with an eye of gladness and longed to caress him as a friend, while I murmured, "Your lot on earth as compared with mine is to be envied. Carelessly and thoughtlessly your days pass with no regret for the past or anxiety for the morrow, while my sympathetic heart, actuated by an ingenious brain, dashes cold waves of sorrow against bleak rocks of cruel destiny." I closed my eyes and again implored my Heavenly Father to increase my strength to tread the thorny way. Then I pondered over my condition again and cried, "Oh, the heart--the human heart--that beats in sympathy! Oh, the soul that longs to comfort some one and yearns to be loved in return!"