Chapter 13 TAKEN HOME

'But I like to think of him passing,

Like a clear early star,

Into that quiet region . . .

I like to think of his little feet

Climbing the heavenly stair,

Of his eyes in their wondering meekness

Waking to glory there.'

The next morning I was out in the garden picking a few late chrysanthemums, when Mr. Stanton passed by me. He