WHEN the frosts were unlocked from the hillsides there came into one of the villages of the red men a mild and quiet old man whom none of them had ever seen before. He stood beside the field where the young men played at their games, and when some of the fathers approached to bid him welcome to their village and wigwams they saw that his body was covered with sores, and they made excuses to turn aside that they might not meet him. When none went to him and called him brother, he turned to the village and walked slowly from door to door of the wigwams. The women saw him and as he approached their doors they covered their children\'s faces that they might not see his features, and wished in their hearts that he would not enter. When the little man read their thoughts, with saddened eyes and heavy steps he would turn away and seek another habitation, where he would again see that he was not welcome and turn his weary footsteps from the door. When he had visited all the wigwams in the village without finding ? 156 ? a welcome in any, he went suddenly to the forest and they saw him no more.

The next day he appeared in another village, where the same weary round of the day before brought him no shelter. For many days thereafter he went from village to village, and, though he spoke to no one, he knew that their hearts were not open to him and that they shuddered at his coming.

Finally there remained but two more villages to visit and he feared that he should find none who would bid him enter their homes that they might minister to his wants. At last, however, as he approached a humble cabin his eyes brightened, for he read in the heart of the woman who saw him coming that she had taken pity on his forlorn condition and that her hospitality would overcome the dread his appearance caused. Said the woman:

"Thou art welcome, my brother, for thou art a stranger."

Then said the stran............