Mr. Esau 157 



to take a seat by the window till he was ready to 

 talk. A surreptitious glance revealed the fact that 

 Billy's chin was trembling and he had frequent 

 furtive uses for his dirty little handkerchief, so 

 swinging around I delivered a "mercy shot" 

 "Don't feel bad, son, I '11 never tell any one that 

 it was you who shot the Gros-beak." 



I do not intend to be thought flippant in the 

 presence of real grief when I say that before you 

 could say "Jack Robinson," Billy had hold of my 

 hand, sobbingly demanding that I "Cross my heart 

 and hope to die." As there were still some duties 

 and pleasures not worn entirely thread-bare, I de- 

 murred at the latter half of his demand and we 

 compromised on the first clause to his entire sat- 

 isfaction. No possible question of the soundness 

 of Billy's conversion or the honesty of his desire 

 to become a Billy Sunday among Junior Audubon 

 Evangelists. Before many audiences in many 

 parts of the country, thus did Mr. Esau win his 

 victories so that if ever canonized and given a 

 new name it will be entirely proper to call him 

 after some great evangelist. I walked part way 

 home with Billy and at the turn in the road this 

 was his parting confidence: "If you had told, I 

 don't 'spect it would have made so much differ- 

 ence with the fellows, but I know the girls would 

 all 'spized me." 



A year after the long struggle with Mr. Esau, 



