king called suddenly from obscurity to a kingdom. I occupied a study whose front window overlooked the trees and gave me an excellent view of the sailing ships and steamers which dotted the bay. I had my typewriter in one corner, my desk in the centre of the room, and an abundant supply of manuscript paper on which I intended writing years and years of sermons for that parish. One day, in spring, my wife insisted that I consult a specialist about a throat affliction which had been interfering with my parish duties. I sought one out and had him make a thorough examination of me. Gravely he plied his tools and searched my throat, and gravely he announced, “You will have to bring your pastoral work to an end, sir. Your throat will have to be cared for. You must go, immediately, to a dry climate, among the high hills, and use your throat for a year or two with great economy. That is all. There is no better remedy.” I gazed on him with startled eyes. “But I’ve just got settled down,” I insisted. “I have no money saved. I have just married. Is there no other remedy?” “None,” he replied, “I am sorry to say. You will have to do as I prescribe or lose your voice altogether. It is very serious.” Late that afternoon I appeared before my wife. She had been planting some old-fashioned flowers in the garden. She saw by my downcast countenance that I had bad news. “What has he told you?” she enquired. “Don’t quibble with me, please!” “We’ll have to say good-bye to this place,” I began, miserably. “It’s all at an end: this fine dream!” “Have to leave?” she echoed, faintly. “Is that it?” Then I reported to her what the specialist had told me. “And we’ve planted the garden!” I concluded. “We shan’t be able to stay here long enough to reap it!” There followed some moments of silence, during which the full shock of the news had time to hurt her, and then she proved herself to be one in that sisterhood of wives who in proposing a comfortable escape from a domestic difficulty bravely commit themselves to hardships: for she said, with a smile, “There, now, this will give you a chance to get to college!” I looked at her with great astonishment. “But we cannot afford to go to college,” I protested. “Oh, can’t we?” she smiled. “Well, I suppose it may be possible for you to get a little church to supply near a college, and I will stay at home through the week, keeping an eye on the parish work while you study for your degree.” “I had never thought of that!” “You will have to be idle if you go to a parish, you might as well use your time in getting a college degree,” she insisted.