We raised the boy, and made him such as few others were like, on the frontiers of America; and we have given him a grave.

Let us go our way." The woman turned her eyes slowly from the fresh earth, and laying her hands on the shoulders of her husband, stood, looking him anxiously in the eyes.
"Ishmael! Ishmael!" she said, "you parted from the boy in your wrath!" "May the Lord pardon his sins freely as I have forgiven his worst misdeeds!" calmly returned the squatter: "woman, go you back to the rock and read your Bible; a chapter in that book always does you good.

You can read, Eester; which is a privilege I never did enjoy." "Yes, yes," muttered the woman, yielding to his strength, and suffering herself to be led, though with strong reluctance from the spot.

"I can read; and how have I used the knowledge! But he, Ishmael, he has not the sin of wasted l'arning to answer for.

We have spared him that, at least! whether it be in mercy, or in cruelty, I know not." Her husband made no reply, but continued steadily to lead her in the direction of their temporary abode.