Mary listened for her husband's reply. It came. "Jenkins, I have taken many a long ride through dust and heat, through rain and snow and storm, and I never yet have had to take any whiskey along." "Well, I have a little trouble with my heart and--" "The trouble's in your head. If you'd throw away that infernal pipe--" "Oh, it's no use to lecture me on that any more." "Very well, your tobacco may be worth more to you than your heart." "Well, will you give me that prescription?" "Certainly I won't. You don't need whiskey and you'll not get it from me." "Go to h-ll!" "All right, I'll meet _you_ there." At which warm farewell between these two good friends, Mary leaned back in her chair and laughed silently. Then she mused: "People will not be saved from themselves. If only they would be, how much less of sin and sickness and sorrow there would be in the world." Presently the doctor came in. "I have a trip to make tonight, Mary. How would you like a star-light drive?" Mary said she would like it very much indeed. Accordingly, at sunset the doctor drove up and soon they were out in the open country. Chatting of many things they drove along and by and by Mary's eyes were attracted to a beautiful castle up in the clouds in the west, on a great golden rock jutting out into the blue. Far below was a grand woman's form in yellow floating robes. She stood with face upturned and arms extended in an attitude of sorrow as if she had been banished from her father's house. There comes the father now. Slowly, majestically, an old man with flowing beard of gold moves toward the edge of the great rock. Now he has reached it. He bends his head and looks below. The attitude of the majestic woman has changed to that of supplication. And now the father stretches down forgiving arms and the queenly daughter bows her head against the mighty wall and weeps in gladness. Now castle and rock, father and daughter slowly interchange places and vanish from her sight. The gold turns to crimson, then fades to gray. Just before her up there in the clouds is a huge lion, couchant. See! he is going to spring across the pale blue chasm to the opposite bank. If he fails he will come right down into the road--"Oh!" "What is it?" asked the doctor, looking around, and Mary told him with a rather foolish smile. The twilight deepened into dusk and the notes of a whippoorwill came to them from a distance. "You and I must have nothing but sweet thoughts right now, John, because then we'll get to keep them for a year." She quoted: "'Tis said that whatever sweet feeling May be throbbing within the fond heart, When listening to a whippoorwill s-pieling, For a twelvemonth will never depart." "Spieling doesn't seem specially in the whippoorwill's line."