"To be a _good_ minister of Jesus Christ, how glorious, how sublime!" said she. "There is nothing I so much desire for you. But you are going into scenes very different from those in which you have been reared--scenes which will have their peculiar and insidious perils. I foresee that you will rise to distinction in your studies. But do not seek high things for yourself. Be not anxious to become what is called a great preacher, nor aspire to a 'brilliant settlement.' Sacrifice not conscience for place and power and the applause of sect. Keep humble. Keep Christ ever before you; and may he watch between me and thee while we are separated from each other;" and she kissed him a fond farewell. Tom stepped aboard the steamer, which rapidly bore him away, carrying in his heart the images of the godly missionary, fair-haired Alice, and his mother--the little group that stood on the shore gazing so lovingly after him. The young man wept freely as they faded from sight. But, happily, the magical splendor of night on the Mississippi broke in on the tumult of his feelings. Hundreds of lights gleamed from the shore in every direction; from village, and city, and town; from cottage and homestead; while steamer after steamer, illuminated within and without, came sweeping, sounding, thundering on, like some monster leviathan spouting fire. It was as a dream of enchantment to him, and soon stirred his brain wonderfully. With singular vividness the eventful past of his pioneer life flitted before his mental vision, and again he experienced the terrible anxieties and thrills of horror and of heroic resolve connected with the Indian uprising. And now his tears flow as he revisits in imagination the lonely grave of his father on the far-off prairie. Would the dear ones that survived the fearful outbreak be long safe? Might they not soon need his aid once more? And the glowing future for which he had so panted, would it be to him all he had fancied? Would he pass safely the dangers his far-seeing mother had sketched? Would he realize her ideal? And the kind missionary and the eccentric money-lender, they had high expectations of what he should become. Would he disappoint their hopes? Tom, wearied with thought, sought his state-room, and fell asleep, dreaming that he was hearing, as on the morning of his first visit to the fort, the bird-like notes of the song that then floated through the open window, and that fairy Alice looked out and said,-- "Don't forget me, Tom, while you are away." Thus does divine and human love ever intertwine. How strange, how unvarying the experience! Farewell, Tom! Farewell, Charlie! Good by, Bub! Perhaps we may meet again. THE LOOKOUT ISLAND CAMPERS By WARREN L. ELDRED Illustrated by Arthur O. Scott--Large 12mo--Cloth $1.50 [Illustration]