A comparatively few great main or dominant currents in the river flow--a comparatively few great dominant currents in the river flow of life.

But if you look closer, you will see that in each one of those established principal currents there are countless thousands--millions--of tiny currents all turning and twisting across, and back, and up, and down in every direction,--weaving themselves together,--pulling themselves apart,--criss-crossing, clashing,--interlacing,--tangled and confused,--and these are the individual lives.

And no matter what the conflict or confusion; no matter what direction they take for the moment, they all, ALL, go to make up the river;--they, all together, ARE the river,--and they all together move onward,--ceaselessly, inevitably, irresistibly." He paused to stand smiling down at her, as she sat there in her low chair beside the table with the lamplight on her silvery hair,--there in the little log house by the river.
"That is what you have made your river mean to me, Auntie Sue; and that is what I would give to the world." With trembling hands, the gentle old teacher reached for her handkerchief, which lay in the sewing-basket on the table beside her.
Smilingly, she wiped away the tears that filled her eyes.

Lovingly, she looked up at him,--standing so tall and strong before her, with his reddish hair tumbled and tossed, and his Irish blue eyes lighted with the fire of his inspiration.
"Well," she said, at last, "why don't you do it, Brian ?" As a breath of air puts out the light of a candle, so the light went from Brian Kent's face.

Dropping into his chair, he answered hopelessly, "Because I am afraid." "Afraid ?" echoed Auntie Sue, troubled and amazed.