little, and did not think I could run.

“‘Get up on my back then,’ said he, and, before I could say a word, he stooped down and lifted me up with his strong arms, then strode on as before.

“The others began to taunt and mock me.

“‘Let him alone, you fellows,’ said my champion. ‘He’s a plucky little chap to come at all with such pleasant companions as we’ve been.’

“We got through the field without attracting the attention of the bull. The place of the meet was just beyond, and we were in good time to see the gay scene. We went back by a different road, and my hero made them all march slowly so that I might be able to keep pace with them.

“It was a little thing, was it not, Bob? I say: a little thing. Perhaps you will hardly believe that one little act of kindness altered my whole life. It taught me lessons which I might never have learned otherwise. It showed me how we can help one another by the simplest kindness and sympathy. All through my life his influence has helped and encouraged me—though, as I tell you, I never saw him again.”

“Is that all, Grandpa?” asked Maud.

But Bob did not speak. He was thinking of what he had said about Harry Moore.

“I think,” he said to Maud that evening, “I’ll just ask Moore why he was afraid of the wet fields. Perhaps he’s delicate, or perhaps he’d promised not to go.”

“Grandfather’s hero wouldn’t have called him a milksop,” said Maud thoughtfully.

“No,” answered Bob, “and I wish I hadn’t; but then, you know, I hadn’t heard about Grandfather’s hero.”