and the world’s prizes wait for the men and women who are ready to take pains to win them.  Be careful and set your minds on the best things.  I meant to be a rich man when I was a boy here, and I stand before you a rich man, knowing the care and anxiety and responsibility of wealth.  I meant to go to Congress, and I am one of the Senators from Kansota.  I say this as humbly as I say it proudly.  I used to read of the valor and patriotism of the old Greeks and Romans with my youthful blood leaping along my veins, and it came to pass that my own country was in danger, and that I could help to fight her battles.  Perhaps some one of these little lads has before him a more eventful life than I have lived, and is looking forward to activity and honor and the pride of fame.  I wish him all the joy that I have had, all the toil that I have had, and all the bitter disappointments even; for adversity leads a man to depend upon that which is above him, and the path of glory is a lonely path, beset by temptations and a bitter sense of the weakness and imperfection of man.  I see my life spread out like a great picture, as I stand here in my boyhood’s place.  I regret my failures.  I thank God for what in his kind providence has been honest and right.  I am glad to come back, but I feel, as I look in your young faces, that I am an old man, while your lives are just beginning.  When you remember, in years to come, that I came here to see the old school-house, remember that I said:  Wish for the best things, and work hard to win them; try to be good men and women, for the honor of the school and the town, and the noble young country that gave you birth; be kind at home and generous abroad.  Remember that I, an old man who had seen much of life, begged you to be brave and good.”

The Honorable Mr. Laneway had rarely felt himself so moved in any of his public speeches, but he was obliged to notice that for once he could not hold his audience.  The primer class especially had begun to flag in attention, but one or two faces among the elder scholars fairly shone with vital sympathy and a lovely prescience of their future.  Their eyes met his as if they struck a flash of light.  There was a sturdy boy who half rose in his place unconsciously, the color coming and going in his cheeks; something in Mr. Laneway’s words lit the altar flame in his reverent heart.

Marilla Hender was pleased and a little dazed; she could not have repeated what her illustrious visitor had said, but she longed to tell everybody the news that he was in town, and had come to school to make an address.  She had never seen a great man before, and really needed time to reflect upon him and to consider what she ought to say.  She was just quivering with the attempt to make a proper reply and thank Mr. Laneway for the honor of his visit to the school, when he asked her which of the boys could be trusted to drive back his hired horse to the Four Corners.  Eight boys, large and small, nearly every