our Scout-master work, you know that's one of my pet enthusiasms, Mrs. Green, I think I'm prouder of being a Scout-master than anything else in the world except being the son of my little mother, God bless her. Mr. Broome didn't know I lived here, and I wish you could have seen the sweet way his face lighted up when he caught sight of me as we were leaving the church—I said to him, Mr. Broome, I hope you're going to be in Westlake for some little length of time, I'd like you to meet my mother and my grandmother, eighty-three years young last August, bless her heart. Mother and grandma didn't get to Vespers; the snow was too deep for them; the same reason that kept you at home, Mrs. Green, I presume. We have to take care of ourselves as we get older, I fully realize that. But he said unfortunately he was leaving almost at once. I'd be very glad to introduce you to him at some more favorable opportunity, Mrs. Green; he is one of the sweetest, cleanest fellows, a real inspiration to us all—and what is more, aman, my son. Kipling. I remember his coming up to me at Beaumont after I'd had the privilege of leading a little sing we had, and taking my hand in his, and the dear fellow was so touched he couldn't say a word, just stood there looking at me with the tears in his eyes, it make me kind of choke up myself"
"Well, that's very—oh, the telephone! Excuse me, Hartley"
"Pardon me, Mrs. Green, I hear your son answer-
