22,2 I GO A-FISHING. 



fixed on the face of his Lord, and the ' Well done, good 

 and faithful servant,' will reach no ear in clearer tones 

 than his. 



" I saw him last standing in the gateway of my hired 

 house in the Via Dolorosa, looking sadly at me as I 

 mounted my horse and rode down the filthy street on my 

 way to the Damascus Gate, where I left Jerusalem, as I 

 then thought, forever. It will be pleasant to meet my 

 old friend on the shining pavements of the other Jeru- 

 salem. 



" Yes, Ward, that humble life rose to the fullest grand- 

 eur. He was a great man, and his story needs no embel- 

 lishment to make it something more than a romance of 

 the real life of an American." 



"Americans," said John Steenburger, who had been 

 hitherto silent — "Americans wander a great deal more 

 than their countrymen dream of. I recollect that I once 

 had my attention directed to this with reference to one 

 little village in New England, and I could recall no less 

 than four persons, whom I had met in Asia and Africa, 

 who were wanderers from home, settled here and there 

 among Mohammedans, all four from that village, and no 

 one of them near or knowing of another. I knew a girl 

 once, the daughter of one of my neighbors, a farmer well 

 to do in the world. She was as bright and lovely a child 

 as was ever known in that part of the country. I think 

 I might say that she was as beautiful when she grew up 

 as any woman that any of you have ever seen. Those 

 who knew her best believed that her soul was as pure as 

 the spring by her father's door. She was the pet of all 

 the country, and her admirers were innumerable. Her 

 education was good, and at eighteen she was sent to board- 

 ing-school to 'complete it,' as they call it. Once in a 



