CHAPTER XV.
A Terrible Alternative.
Sow truth, if thou the true wouldst reap,—
Who sows the false shall reap the vain;
Erect and sound thy conscience keep,
From hollow words and deeds refrain.
Sow love, and taste its fruitage pure;
Sow peace, and reap its harvest bright;
Sow sunbeams on the rock and moor,
And reap a harvest home of light.
he days of peace and sunshine sped all too swiftly. Winter soon gave place to budding spring, and spring lengthened into summer. Twelve months had passed since that happy day in Eastham Woods, for June had come again; and the parks and squares were once more green, and the streets were hot and dusty.
It had been a strange year to Benny. Pain and pleasure had strangely commingled. Never had he felt such sorrow, never had he known such joy.
