THE BRIDAL TRIP.

With a roll of statistics in hand and Ruth on his arm Ralph proceeded to the Golden Rule President’s office the next morning after the marriage.

As they entered the hall they heard some one singing in a deep, melodious voice.

“That’s the President,” whispered Ralph, crushing Ruth’s arm to his side. “It’s his morning matin. I think he composes it as he goes along. Sometimes he sings the Golden Rule mayor’s songs.”

“Did you ever hear anything so quaint and touching, Ralph?”

“Never, Ruth, outside of ‘Friends’ Meeting,’ where I used to go with Grandma when I was a kid. They sang their sermons and sometimes they were very touching.”

“O, listen! He’s singing plainer now, Ralph!”

“As long as you please, dear,” said Ralph. The rascal was only too glad to listen, with Ruth’s pretty head leaning against his shoulder and her fair cheek within kissing distance, while the following words came rolling forth in a heartful voice:

“Co-workers with God! What a mission for men.
What a promise! What glory awaits us then,
When once we awake and our destiny see!
The angels I’m sure might envious be.
All hail to God’s workers! Our race they will save
From the foul name of ‘master,’ or ‘idler’ or ‘slave.’”

“O, I like that, Ralph,” whispered Ruth, after the singing had ceased. “It sounds so hearty and helpful—better than cathedral music for poor mortals like ourselves. I know he will help us. Let us go in now.”

Ralph was in no hurry; but Ruth pressed him eagerly forward. She would not wait even for the proffered kiss. She rapped at the door.

“No need of ceremony here,” laughed Ralph. He opened the door and they walked in.

The President was at his desk swinging his pen as vigorously as he had been using his voice a moment before. He did not stop until he came to a period. Then he arose quickly and extended both hands.

“Glad to see you, Norwood, and twice glad to see—”

“My wife,” stammered Ralph—the words were new to him and the sound was new to Ruth. They both blushed and the President asked as he shook a hand of each:

“How long since, Norwood? I didn’t know you were married. It must be newly. I see you haven’t gotten used to saying ‘my wife?’”

“Only since last evening,” replied Ralph.

“And you brought her to see me early this morning,” said the President, slapping his shoulder while he retained Ruth’s little hand in his powerful grasp. “Bless you! You are a good fellow, Norwood. You are giving me a rare treat. It’s seldom a man brings his wife to call on me and never a newly-wedded one. I like the idea, though. It shows you are thinking of others’ pleasure as well as your own. That’s the right kind of love to have even in the beginning.”

“She chose it for her wedding trip,” laughed Ralph confusedly. Then he recovered himself and added seriously: “She was very anxious to see you and speak with you, and she would not wait a moment longer.”

“Come and sit down,” said the President. “We will talk. We will reason together if need be.”

After they were seated Ruth took a little miniature from her pocket and handed it to him.

“Please look at the picture so you will understand exactly how I feel and why I appeal to you,” said Ruth.

“That’s right! just right! People don’t half understand each other. That’s the reason why they often seem so hard and unsympathetic.” Then he put on his glasses and looked at the picture.

“What a beautiful face! How spiritual! It almost seems as though I had seen one that looked a little like it.” He gave her a keen glance.

GOING TO VISIT THE PRESIDENT.

She shook her head. “You never saw him surely—my beautiful little brother Laurens Cornwallis. He died seven years ago this Fourth of July—Papa and Ralph and Dr. Muelenberg found him lying alone in the woods on the river bank, all torn and mangled with fireworks. It was a dreadful sight and an awful mystery! but probably you never heard of it.”

“I was abroad then but it strikes me that I read of some such accident. Probably an outline of it and that there was something wrong about it; but I want to hear more. I want to hear all about the wrong things that have been, or are being done in this town. My belief is that private wrongs are too often hushed up. They ought to be talked about in the open, as a rule, and even where they are of a private nature they should be talked of in the right way and to the right persons.”

Thus encouraged, Ruth told more fully than she had ever done before, the effect of her brother’s death on herself—of the visions she had when the brain fever was at its height—of the colossal shadow of Millionaire Schwarmer looming into the sky scattering implements of death and destruction everywhere—of the white-winged figure of her brother flying along with the upward look, toward a pit of writhing, fiery, serpents—how she fancied that she ran after him and really did call and call for him to come back; and how Ralph came instead and made her think he was Laurens and the delusion saved her.

“And so you have married your delusion. Bless your heart, you have done just right,” laughed the President, but there was a suspicion of tears in his eyes and Ruth went on:

“I was only eleven years old then. My brain was saved, but I was a physical wreck. Year after year for seven years papa and mamma took me to Canada to save me from the horror of our National Day! Only think of that. Flying away from it and trying to hide my fears of it. You are right about ‘speaking out.’ I think now if I had been encouraged to speak of it freely and do something to remedy it, I need not to have gone away, at least, so many times; but poor mamma and papa! They were so broken down they couldn’t bear to talk about it—papa especially; but I know now that it would have been better for him if he had. His hair was a beautiful brown when little Laurens died, but now it’s as white as snow! And there are others that ought to speak out plainly. There have been a great many accidents here since Mr. Schwarmer’s advent. None of them have been quite so bad and mysterious as my little brother’s, but they have been too bad to pass by and have been increasing every year. Ralph will show you that it is so.”After the statistics were read and commented upon, Ruth broke out: “It’s coming again. It’s almost here. We know dreadful things will happen if we don’t watch and watch and do everything we can to prevent them and stir everybody up to do the same. You can help us, I know you can.”

“Bless your heart! That’s just what I’m here for, to help everybody. I can help you stir up the people. I will call a mass meeting for this very evening, and you and your delusion will be there in the front row—and the curtains will all be torn away from this beastly Fourth of July business. He will read the figures and you will tell your story and encourage every hurt soul to do likewise. This is what I believe in. What I don’t believe in, is forcing people to do things. But I do believe in warming them up to do right things. I don’t believe in masterings, bossings, tie-ups or hold-ups; but I do believe in explainings, urgings and entreatings.”

“The Rev. Dr. Normander tried the gentler method with Schwarmer at the time of Lauren’s death,” said Ralph, “and he declared that Independence Day was a sacred day and that he had as good a right to distribute free fireworks on that day as a minister had to distribute free religious tracts on the Lord’s Day, or words to that effect.”

“O the idiot!” exclaimed the President. “I would not punch his head and make more of an idiot of him; but if I could get my eye on his free fireworks I would destroy them as I would a nest of rattlesnakes. I would let him see that I know the difference between good and evil—between God and the devil, by an illustrative example.”