Suddenly Phil nudged J.W. and whispered, "Shall I tell why I came?" and
J.W. with the memory of stunt night's thrill not yet dulled, said
promptly, "Sure, go ahead."

When Phil got up an attentive silence fell upon them all. The Greek boy
had made many friends, as much by his engaging frankness and anxiety to
learn as by his perpetual eagerness to have a hand in every bit of hard
work that turned up. Since the stunt night incident he was everybody's
favorite.

"Friends," he said, in his rather careful, precise way, "I am here for a
different reason than any. When I was in America but a little time a
Methodist preacher made himself my friend. I could not speak English,
only a few words. He took me to his home. He taught me to talk the
American way. He find me other friends, though I could do nothing at all
for them to pay them back. Now I am Christian--real, not only baptized.
The young people of the church take me in to whatever they do. They
call me 'Phil' and never care that I am a foreigner, so when I heard
about this Institute I say to myself, 'It is something strange to me,
but I hear that many people like those in my church will be there.' I
cannot quite believe that, but it sounded good, and I wanted to come and
see. And now I know that many people are young people like those I first
knew. They treat me just the same. It makes me love America much more;
and if I could tell my people in the old country that all this good has
come to me from the church, they could not believe it. Still, it is
true. Everything I have to-day has come to me by goodness of Christian
people."

There were some half-embarrassed "Amens," and more than one hitherto
unsuspected cold required considerable attention. All the way to