THE CHILDRENS GUIDE AND THE NARROW BRIDGE. 65

As to little Cowslip, her task was not nearly so hard, for the
Guide, who was always specially kind to weakness, held her
firmly with his strong hand, and at a specially steep bit he actually
lifted her up, although he never quite carried her.

The avalanches kept on tumbling past the children, and once or
twice they heard mocking laughter, and Cowslip felt sure she saw
some wicked faces peeping at them. Whenever this happened, how-
ever, the Guide unsheathed his sword and just let it flash in the
sunshine. The moment he did this the laughter ceased, and the
children were able to breathe freely.

At last, after what seemed like hours and hours of the greatest toil
they had ever taken, they reached the summit of this terrible mountain.

“ And now our dangers and our trials must be over,’ thought poor
Clover, as he threw himself full length on the grass at the top, gasping
for breath, and so tired that he could not speak a single word.

Cowslip lay down by her brother, and placed her soft cheek against
his. She was not nearly so tired as he was, for the Guide had helped
her so wonderfully up the terrible mountain.

While the children were resting the Guide sat down near them,
and taking a letter out of his pocket he read it slowly and carefully to
himself. Once or twice he gave a compassionate look at the tired
children, and once or twice he opened his lips as if he would speak
to them. i

He uttered no words, however, but an expression of great gentle-
ness and tenderness passed over his strong face.

“The way is rough,” he murmured under his breath. ‘“ No child
could go up this terrible hill unaided. And yet, what courage that
boy showed! How splendidly he worked and grappled with the
dangers !”

More than an hour passed away. Clover breathed quite comfort-
ably once again, and Cowslip sat wp and looked round her.

Strange to say, on the top of this mountain the air was not nearly
so cold as it had been at the foot. The sun was shining brightly in
the clear blue sky, and a breeze soft as a zephyr was fanning the
children’s hot cheeks.

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