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John’s uncle, the Admiral, stood at the end of the table reading from big sheets of paper. He read something about money, but Johnny Blossom could not understand a bit of what was meant, and found himself very uncomfortable standing squeezed in among all these grown-up people.,

'My father's fortune was unsuitable to his rank. That his son might hereafter be enabled to support the dignity of his family, it was necessary for me to assume the veil. Alas! that heart was unfit to be offered at an heavenly shrine, which was already devoted to an earthly object. My affections had long been engaged by the younger son of a neighbouring nobleman, whose character and accomplishments attracted my early love, and confirmed my latest esteem. Our families were intimate, and our youthful intercourse occasioned an attachment which strengthened and expanded with our years. He solicited me of my father, but there appeared an insuperable barrier to our union. The family of my lover laboured under a circumstance of similar distress with that of my own—it was noble—but poor! My father, who was ignorant of the strength of my affection, and who considered a marriage formed in poverty as destructive to happiness, prohibited his suit.,

“I will remember,” said Uncle Isaac. “I am to hold it sideways and just get the general view when I look at it.”,

Jerry recognized the type at once. It was a desert rat, one of those old men who, lured by the dream of gold, haunt the desert, usually alone. Years pass over their heads in the search which never ends. At last the gold mine that they will find some day becomes merely the excuse not the aim of the unending pilgrimage. The desert, the loneliness is claiming them. If they found a mine worth the developing, probably they would sell it and blow in the proceeds and be off again as soon as possible. They have been too long away from civilization for anything to surprise them. The desert is mysterious, the loneliness makes everything possible.

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First, he would try fishing far out over the flower beds with his rod. There! he had caught and broken off a big, dark red rose. The well was naturally a better place to fish. Johnny Blossom fished up the most incredible things from that well. He first threw them in, of course, and then it was a tremendous piece of work to get them out again—leaves, flowers, his own straw hat—yes, it was certainly an extra fine fishing rod. He would write at once to Uncle Isaac and thank him for it.,

CHAPTER VI THE END OF THE LABYRINTH,

Johnny Blossom bowed himself out and Madame Bakke watched him as long as he was in sight.,

Old Rolfsen reached out a gnarled, rough hand to Johnny and all the rest of the workmen came, one by one, and shook hands with him. It was queer, but it was pleasant, too, for he knew them all and he smiled at them as they greeted him. Lars Berget gripped his hand so hard that it really hurt. And just think! Even Carlstrom came and made a beautiful bow (My! how stiff his moustache ends were today!), and to crown all, Miss Melling pressed forward and actually courtesied! At this Johnny Blossom was so astounded that he had to look over at his mother.