"I have talked a long time. God bless you everyone. I wish you long and happy lives and I hope we may meet again. And now all of you must come and shake hands with me and tell me good-bye." They started forward and swarmed toward him; only, as the foremost of them rose and hid her from sight, little Jennie, with one mighty act of defiant joy, hurled her arithmetic out of the window; and a chubby-cheeked veteran on the end of the bench produced a big red apple from between his legs and went for it with a smack of gastric rapture that made his toes curl and sent his glance to the rafters. They swarmed on him, and he folded his arms around the little ones and kissed them; the older boys, the warriors, brown and barefoot, stepping sturdily forward one by one, and holding out a strong hand that closed on his and held it, their eyes answering his sometimes with clear calm trust and fondness, sometimes lowered and full of tears; other little hands resting unconsciously on each of his shoulders, waiting for their turns. Then there were softened echoes --gay voices, dying away in one direction and another, and then--himself alone in the room--school-master no longer. He waited till there was silence, sitting in his old erect way behind his desk, the bight smile still on his face though his eyes were wet. Then, with the thought that now he was to take leave of her, he suddenly leaned forward and buried his face on his arms. XX IN the Country of the Spirit there is a certain high table-land that lies far on among the out-posts toward Eternity. Standing on that calm clear height, where the sun shines ever though it shines coldly, the wayfarer may look behind him at his own footprints of self-renunciation, below on his dark zones of storm, and forward to the final land where the mystery, the pain, and the yearning of his life will either be infinitely satisfied or infinitely quieted. But no man can write a description of this place for those who have never trodden it; by those who have, no description is desired: their fullest speech is Silence. For here dwells the Love of which there has never been any confession, from which there is no escape, for which there is no hope: the love of a man for a woman who is bound to another, or the love of a woman for a man who is bound to another. Many there are who know what that means, and this is the reason why the land is always thronged. But in the throng no one signals another; to walk there is to be counted among the Unseen and the Alone.