Robert Monroe--the best man God ever made.

"Eight years ago Jack Blewitt wanted a place. Nobody would hire
him, because his father was in the penitentiary, and some people
thought Jack ought to be there, too. Robert Monroe hired
him--and helped him, and kept him straight, and got him started
right--and Jack Blewitt is a hard-working, respected young man
to-day, with every prospect of a useful and honorable life.
There is hardly a man, woman, or child in White Sands who doesn't
owe something to Robert Monroe!"

As Kathleen Bell sat down, Malcolm sprang up and held out his
hands.

"Every one of us stand up and sing Auld Lang Syne," he cried.

Everybody stood up and joined hands, but one did not sing.
Robert Monroe stood erect, with a great radiance on his face and
in his eyes. His reproach had been taken away; he was crowned
among his kindred with the beauty and blessing of sacred
yesterdays.

When the singing ceased Malcolm's stern-faced son reached over
and shook Robert's hands.

"Uncle Rob," he said heartily, "I hope that when I'm sixty I'll
be as successful a man as you."


"I guess," said Aunt Isabel, aside to the little school teacher,