played. You see, she didn't know I couldn't help playing it. I suppose she thought I did it on purpose."
"What on earth did you play, child?"
"I don't know." Felix shivered. "It was awful—it was dreadful. It was fit to break your heart. But it had to be played, if I played anything at all."
"I don't understand what you mean—I declare I don't," said Janet in bewilderment.
"I think we'll change the subject of conversation," said Mr. Leonard.
It was a month later when "the simple creature, Maggie" appeared at the manse door one evening and asked for the preacher.
"Naomi wants ter see yer," she mumbled. "Naomi sent Maggie ter tell yer ter come at onct."
"I shall go, certainly," said Mr. Leonard gently. "Is she very ill?"
"Her's dying," said Maggie with a broad grin. "And her's awful skeered of hell. Her just knew ter-day her was dying. Maggie told her—her wouldn't believe the harbour women, but her believed Maggie. Her yelled awful."
Maggie chuckled to herself over the gruesome remembrance. Mr. Leonard, his heart filled with
