much swifter and longer-winded runner than I. And what an eye he had for the heaviest-laden apple-boughs along the slopes of the “Mountain, " beyond the head of Durocher Street. Gerald's father, a cooper, was a man cast in a large mold, with a face rugged and somber in the extreme. When he looked cross he might at once have been a condemning j‘udge and an instant executioner. I can see him now as he would stride through St. James Streets-with bushy eyebrows, half rusty and half gray, beneath which shone his spectacles in round brass rims. I used to wonder if Gerald. in any long lapse of years, would ever grow up to be as big and grim as his father—a man, I feel sure, to whom no boy, however bold, ever told a fib. »]ohn Gray throve so well in his cooperagc that he gathered, What we were then wont to deem, a goodly surplus from his income. This he invested in a block of buildings a milc beyond the Bonaventure Station of the Grand Trunk Road. As he built honestly. he did not build cheaply; his outlays came to more than he had counted upon, and by a considerable sum. just then a wave of depression swept over Canada, and John Gray's block stood idle. xvith interest and taxes running on. At such a time assets shrink, but debts remain as before. Gray's creditors grew impatient, pressed their claims, and began suits at law. His heart failed him, he