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The Little Shepherd of Kingdom Come
Told in Story Form from the Jack Pickford-GoMwyn Photoplay
By DOROTHY DON NELL
" A IR they places bigger'n the Junction — bigger'n LexingJ-\ ton?" Melissa's eyes were round with awe. "Hit dont seem likely, Chad! 'Pears like they couldn't be."
The boy laughed with masculine superiority, flinging his fine head back in a gesture characteristic of him. "Pooh ! M'liss, they're grander than anything we ever saw ! They've got shining streets and white castles that reach up and up, and towers where you can see the whole world from. They've got many mansions. M'liss — grand mansions "
Caleb Hess, schoolmaster, smiled a very little at the boyish rhapsody, with its odd mingling of the Arabian Nights and the New Testament, but it was an infinitely tender smile. Twelve patient years in the Cumberlands, dealing with soggy minds, dulled with generations of pork and pone eating, with the sullen, the dull, the vicious, had not quite extinguished the flame that had burned, altar-like, in his soul when he came up into the mountains to teach the mountain young of the beauty and the wonder that is in the world.
"Ah, but you must build your castles, Chad boy," he said gently; "you must work for your towers, earn your mansions. There is no virtue in easy things. It is you and you alone who make your life what it will be."
Trite words, old, frayed truths, but to the boy the sayings of an oracle. His dark eyes, under the ragged fringe of uncut hair, glowed like smouldering coals in a fanning wind. "I can do anything — I want to," cried Chad
(Twenty-nine)
own. can
Buford. The last name was problematical, a thingof tradition, for the boy was a waif of the wilds, without parents or kin, or even graves that held his "I
do anything I choose to do — anything! I can get learning, I can bf a gent' man