A shadow and a frown came over her father's face.

"Have you any other grievance?" he asked coldly.

Rising and clasping her hands, the girl looked him full in the face.

"Father, these things that I have mentioned are not grievances. I long for change of scene, for the company of other young folks. I wish to act like other girls, to be one of many. I crave to go to a dance, to the Stringtown Fair, to a circus. Is it wrong to wear a ribbon in my hair, or a bright dress? Does not the wild bird, fresh from God's hand, sing? In our thickets are blue, and yellow, and even cardinal red birds; did not God make them bright in feathers, and—”

"My daughter," interrupted Warwick, "the artful devil has many methods to catch the unwary. Beware of the frivolities of youth. Shame comes at last to such as these."

"Please listen to me, father. Yesterday, when that wagon, filled with girls, and a troupe of young men on horseback passed in the road below us, one of the girls looked toward where I stood, and then the others glanced at me; the wagon stopped

and a young man rode to the path and drew his horse beside me."

"And what did he say?" asked Warwick, leaning over and scanning her face closely.

"He asked me to join the party. He said that they were going to Big Bone Springs for a picnic, that there was room in the wagon, and that they would see me safely home."

"And you?"

"I told him I could not go, because you, my father, do not approve of such things. But that day was very dreary to me, and to-day is more than lonesome. Last night I dreamed again of the faces in the wagon, and in my dreams it was not my mother that came, but the young man. I dreamed that I, too, was laughing and singing and in the wagon with the others. I was very happy. But, my father, it was a dream, only a dream."

"Let it continue to be a dream. God grant, my daughter, that it may ever be a dream."

"Father, no girl comes to my home, I have neither company nor society. I love you very, very much. I do not wish to annoy you, but it would be such a joy to me, and I would not love

you any less, could I just for once go to Big Bone Springs with a party such as this party of the dream seemed to be. May I not, my father?"

"Daughter,” replied Warwick, "put aside these frivolities. They are temptations that the devil sends. No credit are they to the young persons of whom you speak, and who will yet sup of sorrow. Such company would disgrace the daughter of your father. 'Vanity of vanity, all is vanity.' These young people sin in God's sight. They do unrighteous things, of which you have no knowledge, and which, while I live, shall never be a part of your life. Worldly music, frolicking, dancing, are an abomination to the Lord. Never, never, I say, shall the daughter of Warwick take part in such unholy acts. Child of mine, you, who enjoy the manifold blessings God has showered on your path, and yet openly crave for unhallowed joys, know that your father would rather see you in your shroud than the member of such a party. The devil, I say, tempts the unwary. Turn your thoughts to holy things; sing the 373rd hymn; pray to God for strength, my child. Listen to the words of the sacred text: