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Today we'll be continuing Joe's Boys by Louisa May Alcott chapter Six Last Words the next day was Sunday, and a goodly troupe of young and old set forth to church, some driving, some walking, all enjoying the lovely weather and the happy quietude which comes to refresh us when the work and worry of the week are over.

Daisy had a headache, and Aunt Joe remained at home to keep her company, knowing very well that the worst ache was in the tender heart, struggling dutifully against the love that grew stronger as the parting drew nearer.

Daisy knows my wishes and I trust her.

You must keep an eye on Nat and let him clearly understand that there is to be no lovering, or I shall forbid the letter writing.

I hate to seem cruel, but it is too soon for my dear girl to bind herself in any way, said Mrs.

Meg as she rustled about in her best grey silk while waiting for Demi, who always escorted his pious mother to church as a peace offering for crossing her wishes and other things.

I will, dear.

I'm lying in wait for all three boys today like an old spider, and I will have a good talk with each.

They know I understand them, and they always open their hearts sooner or later.

You look like a nice plump little Quakeris, Meg, and no one will believe that big boy is your son, added Mrs.

Jo as Demi came in, shining with Sunday neatness from his well blacked boots to his smooth brown head.

You flatter me to soften my heart toward your boy.

I know your ways, Joe, and I don't give in.

Be firm and spare me a scene by and by.

As for John, as long as he's satisfied with his old mother, I don't care what people think, answered Mrs.

Meg, accepting with a smile the little posy of sweet peas and minionettes Demi brought her.

Then, having buttoned her dove colored gloves with care, she took her son's arm and went proudly away to the carriage where Amy and Bess waited while Joe called after them, just as Marmi used to do.

Girls, have you got your nice pocket handkerchiefs?

They all smiled at the familiar words, and three white banners waved as they drove away, leaving the spider to watch for her first fly.

She did not wait long.

Daisy was lying down with a wet cheek on the little hymn book out of which she and Nat used to sing together.

So Mrs.

Jo strolled about the lawn looking very like a wandering mushroom with her large, buff umbrella.

Dan had gone for a ten mile stroll, and Nat was supposed to have accompanied him, but presently came sneaking back, unable to tear himself away from the dove coat or lose a moment of nearness to his idol.

That last day Mrs.

Jo saw him at once and beckoned him to a rustic seat under the old elm, where they could have their confidences undisturbed and both keep an eye on a certain white curtained window half hidden in vines.

Nice and cool here.

I'm not up to one of Dan's tramps today.

It's so warm and he goes so like a steam engine.

He headed for the swamp where his pet snakes used to live, and I begged to be excused, said Nat, fanning himself with a straw hat, though the day was not oppressive.

I'm glad you did sit and rest with me and have one of our good old talks.

We've both been so busy lately, I feel as if I didn't half know your plans.

And I want to, answered Mrs.

Jo, feeling sure that though they might start with leapzig they would bring up at Plumfield.

You're very kind, and there's nothing I'd like better.

I don't realize I'm going so far.

Suppose I shant till I get afloat.

It's a splendid start, and I don't know how I can ever thank Mr.

Lori for all he's done.

Are you either?

Added Nat with a break in his voice, for he was a tender hearted fellow and never forgot a kindness.

You can thank us beautifully by being and doing all we hope and expect of you, my dear.

In the new life you're going to, there will be a thousand trials and temptations and only your own wit and wisdom to rely on.

That will be the time to test the principles we've tried to give you, and see how firm they are.

Of course you will make mistakes, we all do.

But don't let go of your conscience and drift along blindly.

Watch and pray, dear Nat, and while your hand gains skill, let your head grow wiser and keep your heart as innocent and warm as it is now.

I'll try, mother.

Bear my very best to be a credit to you.

I know I shall improve in my music.

Can't help it there.

But I never shall be very wise, I'm afraid.

As for my heart, you know I leave it behind me in good keeping.

As he spoke, Nat's eyes were fixed on the window with a look of love and longing that made his quiet face both manly and sad, plainly showing how strong a hold this boyish affection had upon him.

I want to speak of that, and I know you'll forgive what seems hard, because I do most heartily sympathize with you, said Mrs Jo.

Glad to have her say yes.

Do talk about Daisy.

I think of nothing but leaving and losing her.

I have no hope.

I suppose it is too much to ask.

Only I can't help loving her wherever I am.

Cried Nat, with a mixture of defiance and despair in his face that rather startled Mrs Jo.

Listen to me, and I'll try to give you both comfort and good advice.

We all know that Daisy is fond of you, but her mother objects, and being a good girl, she tries to obey.

Young people think they never can change, but they do, in the most wonderful manner, and very few die of broken hearts.

Mrs Jo smiled as she remembered another boy whom she had once tried to comfort and then went soberly on while Nat listened as if his fate hung upon her lips.

One of two things will happen.

You will find someone else to love, or better still, be so busy and happy in your music that you'll be willing to wait for time to settle the matter for you both.

Daisy will perhaps forget when you are gone and be glad you were only friends.

At any rate, it is much wiser to have no promises made.

Then both are free, and in a year or 2 may meet to laugh over the little romance nipped in the bud.

Do you honestly think that?

Asked Nat, looking at her so keenly that the truth had to come, for all his heart was in those frank blue eyes of his?

No, I don't, answered Mrs Joe.

Then if you were in my place, what would you do?

He added with a tone of command never heard in his gentle voice before.

Bless me, the boy is in dead earnest, and I shall forget.

Prudence and sympathy, I'm afraid, thought Mrs Jo, surprised and pleased by the unexpected manliness Nat showed.

I'll tell you what I should do, I'd say to myself.

I'll prove that my love is strong and faithful and make Daisy's mother proud to give her to me by being not only a good musician, but an excellent man, and so command respect and confidence.

This I will try for, and if I fail, I shall be the better for the effort and find comfort in the thought that I did my best for her sake.

That is what I meant to do, that I wanted a word of hope to give me courage, cried Nat, tiring up, as if the smoldering spark was set ablaze by a breath of encouragement.

Other fellows, poorer and stupider than I, have done great things and come to honor.

Why may not I?

Though I'm nothing now, I know Mrs.

Brooke remembers what I came from, but my father was honest, though everything went wrong, and I have nothing to be ashamed of.

Though I was a charity boy, I never will be ashamed of my people or myself, and I'll make other folks respect me if I can.

Good.

That's the right spirit, Nat.

Hold to it and make yourself a man.

No one will be quicker to see and admire the brave work than my sister Meg.

She does not despise your poverty or your past.

Mothers are very tender over their daughters, and we marches though we have been poor, are, I confess, a little proud of our good family.

We don't care for money, but a long line of virtuous ancestors is something to desire and to be proud of.

While the Blakes are a good lot, I looked them up, and not one was ever in prison, hanged or disgraced in any way.

We used to be rich and honored years ago, but we've died out and got poor, and Father was a street musician rather than beg.

And I'll be one again before I'll do the mean things some men do and pass muster.

Nat was so excited that Mrs.

Jo indulged in a laugh to calm him, and both went on more quietly.

I told my sister all that, and it pleased her.

I am sure if you do all these next few years, that she will relent and all be happily settled, unless that wonderful change, which you don't believe possible should occur.

Now.

Cheer up.

Don't be lackadaisical in blue.

Say goodbye cheerfully and bravely.

Show a manly front, and leave a pleasant memory behind you.

We all wish you well and hope much for you.

Write to me every week, and I'll send a good gossipy answer.

Be careful what you write to Daisy.

Don't gush or wail, for Sister Meg will see the letters, and you can help your cause very much by sending sensible cheery accounts of your life to us all.

I will.

I will.

It looks brighter and better already, and I won't lose my one comfort by any fault of my own.

Thank you so much, Mother Bear, for taking my side.

I felt so ungrateful and mean and crushed when I thought you all considered me a sneak who had no business to love such a precious girl as Daisy.

No one said anything, but I knew how you felt and that Mr.

Lori sent me off partly to get me out of the way.

Oh, dear.

Life is pretty tough sometimes, isn't it?

And that took his head in both hands as if it ached with a confusion of hopes and fears, passions and plans that proved boyhood was past and manhood had begun very tough.

But it is that very struggle with obstacles which does us good.

Things have been made easy for you in many ways, but no one can do everything.

You must paddle your own canoe now and learn to avoid the rapids and steer straight to the port you want to reach.

I don't know just what your temptations will be, for you have no bad habits and seem to love music so well nothing can lure you from it.

I only hope you won't work too hard.

I feel as if I could work like a horse, I'm so eager to get on.

But I'll take care.

Can't waste time being sick.

And you've given me doses enough to keep me all right, I guess.

Nat laughed as he remembered the book of directions Mrs.

Jo had written for him to consult on all occasions.

She immediately added some verbal ones on the subject of foreign messes.

And having mounted one of her pet hobbies, was in full gallop when Emil was seen strolling about on the roof of the old house, that being his favorite promenade, for there he could fancy himself walking the deck with only blue sky and fresh air about him.

I want a word with the Commodore, and up there we shall be nice and quiet.

Go and play to Daisy.

It will put her to sleep and do you both good.

Sit in the porch so I can keep an eye on you as I promised.

And with a motherly pat on the shoulder, mrs.

Joe left Nat to his delightful task and briskly ascended to the housetop, not up the trellis as of old, but by means of the stairs inside.

Emerging on the platform, she found Emil cutting his initials afresh in the woodwork and singing Pull for the shore like the tuneful mariner he was.

Come aboard and make yourself at home, Auntie, he said with a playful salute.

I'm just leaving a PPC in the old place, so when you fly up here for refuge, you'll remember me.

Oh, my dear, I'm not likely to forget you.

It doesn't need EBH cut on all the trees and railings to remind me of my sailor boy.

And Mrs.

Jo took the seat nearest the blue figure astride the baalustrade, not quite sure how to begin the little sermon she wanted to preach.

Well, you don't pipe your eye and look squally when I shear off as you used to, and that's a comfort.

I like to leave port in fair weather and have a jolly send off all round, especially this time, for it will be a year or more before we drop anchor here again, answered Emile, pushing his cat back and glancing about him as if he loved old plum and would be sorry never to see it anymore.

You have salt water enough without my adding to it.

I'm going to be quite a Spartan mother and send my sons to battle with no wailing, only the command with your shield or on it, said Mrs.

Jo cheerfully after adding a pause.

I often wish I could go, too, and someday I will, when you are captain and have a ship of your own, as I've no doubt you will before long with Uncle Herman to push you on.

When I do, I'll christen her the Jolly Joe and take you as first mate.

It would be regular larks to have you aboard, and I'd be a proud man to carry you round the world you've wanted to see so long and never could, answered Emile, caught at once by the splendid vision.

I'll make my first voyage with you and enjoy myself immensely in spite of seasickness and all the stormy winds that blow.

I've always thought I'd like to see a wreck, a nice safe one with all saved after great danger and heroic deeds while we clung like Mr.

Pillcotti to main top jibs and lease scrubbers.

No wrecks yet, ma'am, but we'll try to accommodate customers.

Captain says I'm a lucky dog and bring fair weather.

So we'll save the dirty weather for you if you want it, laughed Emile, digging at the ship in full sail, which he was adding to his design.

Thanks.

I hope you will.

This long voyage will give you new experiences, and being an officer, you'll have new duties and responsibilities.

Are you ready for them?

You take everything so gaily.

I've been wondering if you realize that now you'll have not only to obey, but to command also, and power is a dangerous thing.

Be careful that you don't abuse it or let it make a tyrant of you.

Right you are, ma'am.

I've seen plenty of that and have got my bearings pretty well.

I guess.

I shan't have very wide swing with Peters over me, but I'll see that the boys don't get abused when he's bowsed up his jib.

No right to speak before, but now I won't stand it.

That sounds mysteriously awful.

Could I ask what nautical torture bowsing jibs is?

Asked Mrs.

Jo in a tone of deep interest.

Getting drunk?

Peters can hold more grog than any man I ever saw.

He keeps right side up, but is as savage as a Northern and makes things lively all round.

I've seen him knock a fellow down with a bling pin and couldn't lend a hand.

Better luck now, I hope.

And Emil frowned as if he already trod the quarter deck.

Lord of all he surveyed.

Don't get into trouble, for even Uncle Herman's favor won't cover insubordination.

You know.

You've proved yourself a good sailor.

Now be a good officer, which is a harder thing, I fancy.

It takes a fine character to rule justly and kindly.

You'll have to put by your boyish ways and remember your dignity.

That will be an excellent training for you, Emile, and sober you down a bit.

No more sky larking except here, so mind your waves and do honor to your buttons, said Mrs.

Jo, tapping one of the very bright brass ones.

That ornamented the new suit Emil was so proud of.

I'll do my best.

I know my time for Skirmshander chaff is over and I must steer a straighter course, but don't you fear Jack ashore is a very different craft from what he is, with blue water under his keel?

I had a long talk with uncle last night and got my orders.

I won't forget him, nor all I owe him.

As for you, I'll name my first ship as I say and have your bust for the figurehead.

See if I don't.

And Emil gave his aunt a hearty kiss to seal the vow, which preceding much amused nat, playing softly in the porch of the Dovecoat.

You do me proud, Captain.

But, dear, I want to say one thing, and then I'm done for.

You don't need much advice of mine after my good man has spoken.

I read somewhere that every inch of rope used in the British Navy has a strand of red in it, so that wherever a bit of it is found, it is known.

That is the text of my little sermon to you.

Virtue, which means honor, honesty, courage, and all that makes character is the red thread that marks a good man wherever he is.

Keep that always and everywhere, so that even if wrecked by misfortune, that sign shall still be found and recognized.

Yours is a rough life, and your mates not all we could wish, but you can be a gentleman in the true sense of the word, and no matter what happens to your body, keep your soul clean, your heart true to those who love you, and do your duty to the end.

As she spoke, Emile had risen and stood listening with his cap off and a grave, bright look, as if taking orders from a superior officer.

When she ended, he answered briefly but heartily.

Please God, I will.

That's all.

I have little fear for you, but one never knows when or how the weak moment may come, and sometimes a chance word helps us, as so many my dear mothers spoke.

Come back to me now for my own comfort and the guidance of my boys, said Mrs.

Jo, rising, for the words had been said, and no more were needed.

I've stored them up and nowhere to find them when wanted.

Often and often in my watch, I've seen old plum and heard you and uncle talking so plainly, I'd have sworn I was here.

It is a rough life, auntie, but a wholesome one.

If a fellow loves it as I do and has anchor to windward as I have, don't worry about me, and I'll come home next year with a chest of tea that will cheer your heart and give you ideas enough for a dozen novels going below.

All right, steady in the gangway.

I'll be along by the time you've got out the cake box.

Last chance for a good old lunch.

Ashore, Mrs.

Joe descended laughing, and Emile finished his ship, whistling cheerfully, neither dreaming when and where this little chat on the housetop would return to the memory of one of them.

Dan was harder to catch, and not until evening did a quiet moment come in that busy family, when, while the rest were roaming about, mrs.

Joe sat down to read in the study, and presently Dan looked in at the window.

Come and rest after your long tramp.

You must be tired, she called with an inviting nod towards the big sofa where so many boys had reposed as much as that active animal ever does.

Afraid I shall disturb you.

But Dan looked as if he wanted to stay, his restless feet somewhere.

Not a bit.

I'm always ready to talk.

Shouldn't be a woman if I were not, laughed Mrs.

Jo, as Dan swung himself in and sat down with an air of contentment.

Very pleasant to see.

Last day is over, yet somehow I don't seem to hanker to be off.

Generally, I'm rather anxious to cut loose after a short stop.

OD, ain't it?

Asked Dan gravely, picking grass and leaves out of his hair and beard, for he had been lying on the grass thinking many thoughts in the quiet summer night.

Not at all.

You're beginning to get civilized.

It's a good sign, and I'm glad to see it, answered Mrs.

Joe promptly.

You've had your swing and want to change.

Hope the farming will give it to you.

No.

Helping the Indians pleases me more.

It is so much better to work for others than for oneself alone.

So tis scented dan heartily.

I've seemed to want a route somewhere and have folks of my own to take care of.

Tired of my own company, I suppose, now I've seen so much better.

I'm a rough, ignorant lot, and I've been thinking maybe I've missed it, loafing round creation instead of going in for education as the other chaps did.

Hey.

He looked anxiously at Mrs.

Jo, and she tried to hide the surprise this new outburst caused her.

For till now Dan had scorned books and gloried in his freedom.

No, I don't think so.

In your case so far, I'm sure the free life was best.

Now that you are a man, you can control that lawless nature better.

But as a boy, only great activity and much adventure could keep you out of mischief.

Time is Taming my cult, you see, and I shall yet be proud of him whether he makes a packhorse of himself to carry help to the starving or goes to plowing as Pegasus did.

Dan liked the comparison and smiled as he lounged in the sofa corner with a new thoughtfulness in his eyes.

Glad you think so.

The fact is, it's going to take a heap of taming to make me go well, in harness anywhere I want to, and I try now and then, but always kick over the traces and run away.

No lives lost yet, but I shouldn't wonder if there was some time and a general smash up.

Why, Dan, did you have any dangerous adventures during this last absence?

I fancied so, but didn't ask before knowing.

You'd tell me if I could help in any way, can I?

Mrs Jo looked anxiously at him for a sudden lowering expression had come into his face and he leaned forward as if to hide it.

Nothing very bad, but Frisco isn't just a heaven on earth, you know, and it's harder to be a saint there than here.

He answered slowly then, as if he had made up his mind to cess, as the children used to say.

He sat up and added rapidly, in a half defiant, half shame faced way I tried gambling and it wasn't good for me.

Was that how you made your money?

Not a penny of it.

That's all honest, if speculation isn't a bigger sort of gambling.

I won a lot, but I lost or gave it away and cut the whole concern before it got the better of me.

Thank heaven for that.

Don't try it again.

It may have the terrible fascination for you it has for so many.

Keep to your mountains and prairies and shun cities if these things tempt you, Dan, better lose your life than your soul.

And one such passion leads to worse sins, as you know better than I.

Dan nodded, and seeing how troubled she was, said in a lighter tone, though still the shadow of that past experience remained.

Don't be scared.

I'm all right now.

And a burnt dog dreads the fire.

I don't drink or do the things you dread.

Don't care for them, but I get excited.

And then this devilish temper of mine is more than I can manage.

Fighting a moose or a buffalo is all right, but when you pitch into a man, no matter how great a scamp he is, you've got to look out.

I shall kill someone someday.

That's all I'm afraid of.

I do hate a sneak, and Dan brought his fist down on the table with a blow that made the lamp totter and the book skip.

That always was your trial, Dan, and I can sympathize with you, for I've been trying to govern my own temper all my life and haven't learnt yet, said Mrs Jo with a sigh for heaven's sake, guard your demon well and don't let a moment's fury ruin all your life.

As I said to Nat, watch and pray, my dear boy.

There's no other help or hope for human weakness but God's love and patience.

Tears were in Mrs.

Jo's eyes as she spoke for she felt this deeply and knew how hard a task it is to rule these bosom sins of ours.

Dan looked touched, also uncomfortable, as he always did when religion of any sort was mentioned though he had a simple creed of his own and tried to live up to it in his blind way.

I don't do much praying don't seem to come handy to me but I can watch like a redskin only it's easier to mount guard over a lurking grizzly than my own cursed temper.

It's that I'm afraid of.

If I settle down I can get on with wild beasts first rate but men rile me awfully and I can't take it out into free sight as I can with a bear or a wolf.

Guess I'd better head for the Rockies and stay there a spell longer till I'm tame enough for decent folks, if I ever am.

And Dan leaned his rough head on his hands in a despondent attitude.

Try my sort of help and don't give up.

Read more, study a little and try to meet a better class of people who won't rile.

Let's soothe and strengthen you we don't make you savage, I'm sure for you have been as meek as a lamb and made us very happy glad of it but I felt like a hawk in a hen house all the same and wanted to pounce and tear more than once.

Not so much as I used, though, added Dan after a short laugh at Mrs.

Joe's surprised face.

I'll try your plan and keep good company this bout if I can but a man can't pick and choose knocking about as I do.

Yes, you can this time, for you're going on a peaceful errand and can keep clear of temptation if you try.

Take some books and read that's an immense help and books are always good company if you have the right sort.

Let me pick out some for you.

Mrs.

Jo made a beeline to the well laden shelves which were the joy of her heart and the comfort of her life.

Give me travels and stories, please.

Don't want any pious works.

Can't seem to relish them and won't pretend I do, said Dan following to look over her head with small favor at the long lines of well worn volumes.

Mrs.

Jo turned short round and putting a hand on either broad's shoulder, looked him in the eye, saying soberly, now, Dan, see here never sneer at good things or pretend to be worse than you are.

Don't let false shame make you neglect the religion without which no man can live.

You needn't talk about it if you don't like.

But don't shut your heart to it, in whatever shape it comes.

Nature is your God now.

She has done much for you.

Let her do more and lead you to know and love a wiser and more tender teacher, friend and comforter than she can ever be.

That is your only hope.

Don't throw it away and waste time, for sooner or later you will feel the need of him, and he will come to you and hold you up when all other help fails.

Dan stood motionless and let her read in his softened eyes the dumb desire that lived in his heart, though he had no words to tell it and only permitted her to catch a glimpse of the divine spark which smolders or burns clearly in every human soul.

He did not speak, and glad to be spared some answer which should belie his real feelings.

Mrs.

Jo hastened to say with her most motherly smile I saw in your room the little Bible I gave you long ago.

It was well worn outside, but fresh within, as if not much read.

Will you promise me to read a little once a week, dear, for my sake?

Sunday is a quiet day everywhere, and this book is never old nor out of place.

Begin with the stories you used to love when I told them to you boys.

David was your favorite, you remember.

Read him again.

He'll suit you even better now, and you'll find his sins and repentance useful reading till you come to the life and work of a diviner example than he.

You will do it for the love of Mother Bear, who always loved her firebrand and hoped to save him.

I will, answered Dan with a sudden brightening of face that was like a sunburst through a cloud full of promise, though so short lived and rare.

Mrs.

Jo turned at once to the books and began to talk of them, knowing well that Dan would not hear more.

Just then he seemed relieved, for it was always hard for him to show his inner self, and he took pride in hiding it, as an Indian does in concealing pain or fear.

Hello.

Here's.

Old syndrome.

I remember him.

Used to like him in his tantrums and read about him to Ted.

There he is, riding ahead with death and the devil alongside.

Stan looked at the little picture of the young man with horse and hound going bravely up the rocky defile, accompanied by the companions who ride beside most men through this world.

A curious impulse made Mrs.

Jose quickly.

That's you, Dan, just you at this time.

Danger and sin are near you in the life you lead.

Moods and passions torment you.

The bad father left you to fight alone, and the wild spirit drives you to wander up and down the world looking for peace and self control.

Even the horse and hound are there, your OCTU and dawn, faithful friends unscared by the strange mates that go with you.

You have not got the armor yet, but I'm trying to show you where to find it.

Remember the mother Syndrome loved and longed to find and did find when his battle was bravely fought, his reward well earned.

You can recollect.

Your mother and I have always felt that all the good qualities you possess come from her.

Act out the beautiful old story in this as in the other parts and try to give her back a son to be proud of.

Quite carried away by the likeness of the quaint tale to Dan's life and needs, mrs.

Jo went on pointing to the various pictures which illustrated it and when she looked up was surprised to see how struck and interested he seemed to be.

Like all people of his temperament, he was very impressionable and his life among hunters and Indians had made him superstitious.

He believed in dreams, liked weird tales and whatever appealed to the eye or mind vividly impressed him more than the wisest words.

A story of poor tormented Syndrome came back clearly as he looked and listened, symbolizing his secret trials even more truly than Mrs.

Jo knew.

And just at that moment this had an effect upon him that never was forgotten.

But all he said was small chance of that.

I don't take much stock in the idea of meeting folks in heaven.

Guess mother won't remember the poor little brat she left so long ago.

Why should she?

Because true mothers never forget their children and I know she was one from the fact that she ran away from the cruel husband to save her little son from bad influences.

Had she lived, life would have been happier for you with this tender friend to help and comfort you.

Never forget that she risked everything for your sake and don't let it be in vain.

Mrs.

Jo spoke very earnestly, knowing that this was the one sweet memory of Dan's early life and glad to have recalled it at this moment.

For suddenly a great tear splash down on the page or sindrim kneels at his mother's feet, wounded but victorious over sin and death.

She looked up, well pleased to have touched Dan to the heart's core as that drop proved but a sweep of the arm brushed away the tell tail and his beard hid the mate to it as he shut the book, saying with a suppressed quiver in his strong voice I'll keep this.

If nobody wants it.

I'll read it over and maybe it will do me good.

I'd like to meet her anywhere, but don't believe I ever shall.

Keep it and welcome.

My mother gave it to me.

And when you read it, try to believe that neither of your mothers will ever forget you.

Mrs.

Joe gave the book with a caress and simply sang thanks.

Good night.

Dan thrusted into his pocket and walked straight away to the river to recover from this unwanted mood of tenderness and confidence.

Next day the travelers were off.

All were in good spirits and a cloud of handkerchiefs whitened the air as they drove away in the old bus, waving their hats to everyone and kissing their hands.

Especially to Mother Bear, who said in her prophetic tone as she wiped her eyes when the familiar rumble died away, I have a feeling that something is going to happen to some of them and they will never come back to me or come back changed.

Well, I can only say God be with my boys.

And he was.

Thank you for joining Bite at a Time books today while we read a bite of one of your favorite classics.

Again, my name is Brie Carlyle and I hope you come back tomorrow for the next bite of Joe's boys.

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You take a look in the book and let's see what we can find.

Take it chapter by chapter, one at a time.

So many adventures and mountains we can climb.

You take it word for word, line by line, one bite at a time.

Close.