One day, when business was very quiet in the store in Orangeville, the following conversation took place: "Who is that young man of striking appearance, talking to that old man in the road there?" said Hammond to Saunders, the merchant.

"That young man," said Saunders, "why, his name is Penloe."

Hammond said: "Penloe, why that must be the fellow I have heard my wife talk about. Has he any other name?"

"That is all," said Saunders. "He does not wish to be called anything else but Penloe. All his mail comes addressed just 'Penloe, Orangeville, California.' No. Mr., nor Esquire, nor Rev. nor Dr. nor Prof., nor anything else. He and his mother are my best customers, in one way. Not that they buy much, but they never ask my price for the purpose of beating me down. Nor do they grumble about the quality of my goods. Why, those two have bought more from this store to give away to those in poor circumstances, than they have for themselves. And they keep very still about what they do in giving. There is the Jones family, who have more children than dollars; they live in that cabin under the hill, on the Squirrel Creek road. All Jones has is what he knocks out by hard day's work, and he don't always have work, either.

"Well, last winter, when his wife was in confinement and had a long sick spell of two months, and Jones had typhoid fever about the same time, they were about down to their last dollar and were in debt. When Penloe and his mother heard about them, they both went down to Jones' house. Penloe cut some stove-wood and helped round, and his mother took care of Mrs. Jones. Also, Penloe paid me $37.50 for merchandise, which I had furnished them. The doctor had been to Jones' about twice before they came to take care of him and his wife. They paid the doctor, and told him (to his surprise, as both his patients were very sick) that he need not come any more. And they cured them without any medicine. When Jones got well, they told him he could work on their place till he got work elsewhere. And they gave him his board and one dollar a day in cash for a month, and then he went to work on the Kelly ranch.

"Jones and his wife have turned over a new leaf since Penloe and his mother were with them. They look differently, act differently, and talk differently. Penloe's mother gave them a little sound talk on family matters. I feel a better man myself when they are round me.

"Penloe's mother is away now, and Penloe is not seen much about here; he is home most of the time, since he quit going out to work."

"That is a very different story from what you can tell about most of the young men in Orangeville," said Hammond. After which remark Hammond walked out of the store, apparently in a deep study.

Yes, he had much to think about, for he had seen a young man about twenty-two years of age giving himself, his labor, his money, and his best thought to help a poor family; to heal them of their sicknesses, to help them to become self-supporting and independent, by furnishing them work, and, above, all, to lift them to a higher plane of life, thus helping them to find within, the "kingdom of Heaven." Yes, he thought of Penloe's age, it was twenty-two; the very age when most young men think only of gratifying themselves in every little whim and fancy, of catering to their pride and vanity, and spending all their time, all their thought, and all their money on themselves; being lovers of themselves more than lovers of God or any one else. Or they have become absorbed in some girl, not because she touches their better nature and does what she can to lift them to a higher plane, but because she stimulates the activity of their sensual natures, causing them to live in bondage to their lower selves. Deluding themselves with the idea that they are enjoying life, they become so engrossed in the pursuit of 'sense-plane' pleasures that they realize no other life than the animal-plane of their existence, seeming apparently to be dead to all high motives, grand ideals and nobleness of purpose.