ugh as the rain runs in streams down cheeks. Rain, is it? Or can it be

him. Some of the ruder ones even g mud; but a sense of shame withn the act.

or lunatic.

Let him alone," say the

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nate.

ha

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lo

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ost famous man in England. It was he who 'Rasselas,' and the Lives of the Poets,' and ,' and many another work that all men ar ng. It was he who made the great English nary,' ,' the most wonderful book of our times. In ■n, the noblest lords and ladies take pleasure in him honor. He is the literary lion of England." hen why does he come to Uttoxeter and stand n the pouring rain?"

cannot tell you; but doubtless he has reason ing so; " and the gentleman passes on. length there is a lull in the storm. The bird hirping among the housetops. The peopl

er if the rain is over, and venture out into the ry street.

e clock strikes twelve. The renowned strange pod a whole hour motionless in the market place ound of the bell appears to arouse him. H up at the rain which is still falling.

siting; "we have missed you all day. O wet and chilled! Where have you

ays the great man, "fifty years ago, I tacitly refused to oblige or obey my hought of the pain which I must have haunted me ever since. To endeavor re to do away the sin of that hour, went in a chaise to Uttoxeter, and e publicly before the stall which my nerly used."

an bows his head upon his hands and

vas at sunset that we were put ashore on tha rock where the lighthouse looked down o e some tall black-capped giant. The stars wer ning to twinkle, and the salt air blew cold from

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ne one began to light the lamps in the hig ouse tower. Rich red and golden they swun d in mid air; everything was strange and fas

ng and new.

entered the quaint little old stone cottag was for six years our home. How curious ed, with its low, whitewashed ceiling, and dee ow seats showing the great thickness of th made to withstand the breakers.

blissful home the little house became to the chi who entered it that quiet evening and slept fo rst time lulled by the murmur of the encirclin I do not think a happier triad ever existed tha

ler I was allowed to help in caring the tower, and sometimes to kindle It was a pleasure to think how far ent its rays and how many hearts it its warning light of safety.

every year came the old black, lumthat brought supplies for the lightinspector who gravely examined ee if all was in order.

red-and-white glass chimneys for the s for polishing the great silver-lined bundles of wicks and various pairs trimming them. All these together s of whale oil were stored away in the nted rooms of the lighthouse tower. eemed as long as a whole year to our at they were pleasant, nevertheless.