Nat was toiling steadily along the path he had wisely chosen, though it was by no means strewn with flowers--quite thorny was it, in fact, and hard to travel, after the taste of ease and pleasure he had got when nibbling at forbidden fruit.

But his crop of wild oats was a light one, and he resolutely reaped what he had sowed, finding some good wheat among the tares.

He taught by day; he fiddled night after night in the dingy little theatre, and he studied so diligently that his master was well pleased, and kept him in mind as one to whom preferment was due, if any chance occurred.

Gay friends forgot him; but the old ones stood fast, and cheered him up when Heimweh and weariness made him sad.

As spring came on things mended--expenses grew less, work pleasanter, and life more bearable than when wintry storms beat on his thinly clad back, and frost pinched the toes that patiently trudged in old boots.