“Strive to express the meaning. The person arrives for inspection at mid-day. For your assistance I tender thanks. The incident is now closed. Do you labour at hospital to-day?” George had determined to be at the fount of news. In town, uncertain, he could have applied himself to nothing. He said: “No, here; I work here to-day.” “To your tasks,” commanded Mr. Marrapit. II. George went to his room, but his tasks through that morning lay neglected. Impossible to work. He was in a position at which at one time or another most of us are placed. He was upon one end of a balanced see-saw, and he was blindfolded so that it was impossible to see what might happen upon the other extremity. Suddenly he might be swung up to highest delight; suddenly he might be dashed earthwards to hit ground with a jarring thud. The one eventuality or the other was certain; but he must sit blindfold and helpless--unable to affect the balance by an ounce. Here is the position in which all of us are made cowards. Bring the soldier into action, and his blood will run hot enough to make him intoxicated and insensible to fear; hold him in reserve, and courage will begin to ooze. Give us daylight in which we may see aught that threatens us, and likely enough we shall have desperate courage sufficient to rush in and grapple; it is in the darkness that uncertainty sets teeth chattering. More prayers are said, and with more devotion, at night than in the morning. We creep and crawl and squirm to heaven when the uncertainty of the night has to be faced; but we can get along well enough, thank you, when we spring out of bed with the courage of morning. George could not work until he knew whether he was to be swung high or thrown low. He paced his room; glimpsed his watch; tremendously smoked--and groaned aloud as, at every turn, he would receive the buffets of recollection of some important point upon which he had omitted to school his Mary.