St Nicholas [serial] . t the highest opportunity that can come toman or woman, boy or girl, is that of service tomankind. And the American boys of to-day and the daysto come, when choosing their heroes, as all boyswill, may well look long and thoughtfully uponthis kindly, steadfast man, who, seeking nothingfor himself, yet never neglected an opportunityto serve his city, State, or nation; who, in liter-ature, in art, in life, in thought —in all his workand in his burning love of country —sought andheld and fought for the highest ideals. He heardand answered every call of Duty to loving service
St Nicholas [serial] . t the highest opportunity that can come toman or woman, boy or girl, is that of service tomankind. And the American boys of to-day and the daysto come, when choosing their heroes, as all boyswill, may well look long and thoughtfully uponthis kindly, steadfast man, who, seeking nothingfor himself, yet never neglected an opportunityto serve his city, State, or nation; who, in liter-ature, in art, in life, in thought —in all his workand in his burning love of country —sought andheld and fought for the highest ideals. He heardand answered every call of Duty to loving serviceof his fellow-men, —the unfailing champion ofthe oppressed, the uncompromising foe of op-pression ; and yet he was not embittered by thestrife, but kept unsullied the pure mind andyoung heart of the poet, and a nature so sweetand gentle, so modest, loyal, and generous, that—alike to the highest in the land and the humblestof his fellow-workers —he was always one of themost lovable and beloved of men. W. F. BY HILDEGARDE HAWTHORNE A TWILIGHT VISION It was just that hour of the day when you oughtto, but do not want to, light the lamps, becausethere are such lovely shadows playing about theroom, pretending not to notice the firelight, andyet cleverly keeping out of its way. I sat in a bigchair and watched them jumping and tumblingaround, having the best sort of a time. It was then that it happened, and very wonder-ful I ve thought it since, though at the time Iwas so interested that I forgot to be surprised. I called the room the studio, because it had anorth light, and because I had hung up some oldtapestries, and studies in oil and water-colormade by different friends, and because of a divanand lots of cushions, and some pieces of brassabout. But it was really my workroom and hada big desk, and shelves nearly the whole wayround the walls, loaded with books. As I sat watching the shadows I happened toraise my eyes to a shelf where there was a rowof Shakspere. And ri
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