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“What do you say?” asked Madame Bakke. “What?” Bob exploded. “Mexicans from the other side of the border?” “Just see this beautiful color I have made, Mother,” exclaimed John, exhibiting a muddy yellow mixture as the result of his efforts. Mother did not seem much impressed with the new yellow color..
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From the river the country had looked flat. But once faced in the direction the old man had told them to go, they found the way was quite hilly. Perhaps they had been so used during the past days in the canyon to the walls towering straight up on each side of them that the gradual rise did seem flat. But they soon realized it would be quite a climb. Mother began to cry again, and there came a lump in Johnny Blossom’s throat. No, he would not cry. Big boys ought never to cry. 'One day, Oh! never shall I forget it, I went as usual to the confessional to acknowledge my sins. I knelt before the father with eyes bent towards the earth, and in a low voice proceeded to confess. I had but one crime to deplore, and that was the too tender remembrance of him for whom I mourned, and whose idea, impressed upon my heart, made it a blemished offering to God. “John!” screamed Mother, starting up. “Oh, Johnny! my boy, my boy! Is it really you?”.
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