"I remember that it has puzzled some forty or more of my boys in the course of time," said Mr. Burrows, laughing; "but nothing very special about it." "I do; it was the cause of my first promotion." "Was it, indeed! I'm afraid it will never be the cause of poor Joseph's; it seems to be mastering him." Mr. Burrows was engaged with a grammar class, and Edward offered to assist the bewildered Joseph. "I remember those sheep of old," he said kindly, as he turned to the board. "Isn't it the 'stood him in' that troubles you?" "Yes, it is," Joe answered grumbly. "I don't see no sense to it." "Let me show you. Suppose"--And he went through with the well--remembered explanation. It was successful, Joe understood it, and went on briskly with the figures. Edward turned towards Mr. Burrows. "It was the way my father explained it to me," he said, with eyes that glistened a little. Some one brought Mr. Burrows a note, and, as he read and laid it down, he said, "Now, Edward, if you had continued at school instead of running away from us, I should get you to hear this recitation in algebra, and take leave of absence for a few minutes. There is a friend in town whom I would give much to see before the next train leaves." "Suppose you set me at it as it is." Mr. Burrows looked surprised. "Have you been studying algebra, Edward?" "Somewhat." "How far have you been?" "Through." "Do you feel _positive_ that you could do examples over here?" turning to "Evolution." "_Entirely,"_ Edward answered, smiling at Mr. Burrows' doubts. Ray had been a thorough teacher. So Mr. Burrows went away, and Edward took his seat on the stage and commenced the recitation. At first the boys were disposed to be wise, and display their knowledge; when they had known him last, he was in division. But he was in algebra now, or rather through it, and they speedily discovered that he seemed to have every example in the lesson committed to memory. Meantime, Mr. Burrows returned, and listened with astonishment and delight. "Thank you heartily," he said afterwards. "You ought to fit yourself for teaching. But, Edward, you did not get through algebra alone?" "No," said Edward, flushing at the thought of Ray; "I had the best and wisest teacher on earth." Well, he sat down in what had been his seat, and tried to imagine that it was his seat still; that Bob would be in pretty soon, and plague him while he studied his spelling-lesson. But he could not do it. "Things were different,"--very different. First and foremost, there was Ray: he had not known _him_ in those days; if he had, he said to himself, things would have been different long before they were. Going back up town he met Mr. Holbrook, who turned and walked with him. "And so," he said, after the long talk was concluded, "you go next week, do you?" "Next Tuesday, sir." "Well, God bless you, my friend, as He has, and will." Then, after a minute, "Edward, my son is a wanderer yet: do you still remember him?"