Whenever he came home and did not see her waiting at the door, his first question was always--"Where's Muriel ?" Muriel's still face looked very bright this morning--the Monday morning after the election--because her father was going to be at home the whole day.

It was the annual holiday he had planned for his work-people.

This only "dinner-party" we had ever given, was in its character not unlike that memorable feast, to which were gathered the poor, the lame, the halt, and the blind--all who needed, and all who could not return, the kindness.

There were great cooking preparations--everything that could make merry the heart of man--tea, to comfort the heart of woman, hard-working woman--and lots of bright pennies and silver groats to rejoice the very souls of youth.
Mrs.Halifax, Jem Watkins, and his Jenny, were as busy as bees all morning.

John did his best to help, but finally the mother pleaded how hard it was that the children should miss their holiday-walk with him, so we were all dismissed from the scene of action, to spend a long, quiet two hours, lying under the great oak on One-Tree Hill.