Down the central aisle was the clear-cut, immobile face of a financier whose opinions in the money world were never discounted. His keen eyes rested upon the speaker in admiration. Personally he played the game of gold so intensely he forgot to calculate what life meant to the individuals who composed "the market." He was rather hypnotized with his own success: but he recognized his peer in this man who ruled in his own world of thought. Why, he was making the game of life appear so vivid and real that the whole financial play grew dull and artificial beside it. The listener's quick eye noted the alert, interested faces around him. Ah, it were indeed a great thing so to play upon the minds of men and women as to win this tribute of silent, rapt attention. The eloquent voice aroused in him no impulse of envy or of aspiration; but his own ability inwardly saluted this master of words who could so paint the atmosphere with sound. A gratified flush crept into the minister's face as he looked over the audience. Was this not ready proof of the compensations of work? He had put his mind's best effort into this sermon, and there was not one in the great church who was not touched, mentally. That sense of the unreality of the market-place followed the financier after the artistic music had ended the service. Later in the day he wandered along the country roads in the spring sunshine, thinking of the sermon. How dramatic it all had been and how perfect a performance! It seemed a part of the fresh spring day as the inviting green fields melted into his reverie and he followed the path with careless strides. The wind gently stirred the branches and a delicate shower of fragrant petals fell at his feet, while a strangely familiar odor filled the air with its long-forgotten charm. Apple blossoms! How sweet they were! With delicious subtlety the perfumed breath from the boughs filled him with its own ethereal magic. Nature was playing a glorious game of sound and color and form and fragrance. Deep in his slumbering heart something stirred and fluttered and sprang up at the first touch of this enchantment. The power in the fragile petals swept the sordid earth from under his feet. The dear old apple orchard of his boyhood was before him. Again he stood upon the threshold of joyous, strong, young life. The taste of sweet belief in an untried world was on his lips, the wine of high impulse tingling in every nerve. The harmony of life's song thrilled him into vibrant sympathy with its purity and beauty and his heart glowed with the faith which only youth knows.