CHAPTER XIV.

THE TURNING-POINT.

HY, James!" exclaimed his mother, when the excitement of their meeting was over, "you look sick."

"I am sick; and that's the reason I came home. It's been a very hard walk for me, I am so weak."

"How long have you been sick?" inquired his mother, with much anxiety.

"Not long. I've got the ague; had it a week or more."

"The ague!" answered his mother, astonished; "I didn't know that they ever had the ague on a ship."

"I have not been on a ship, but on the canal."

"On the canal!" rejoined his mother, still more surprised. "I thought you were on the lake all this time. How did it happen that you were on the canal?"

James rehearsed his experience on the schooner that he boarded, especially narrating his encounter with the captain, and his haste to escape from such a demon; how he met his cousin, Amos Letcher, of the

caral-boat "Evening Star," and bargained with him for the position of driver, not omitting his hair-breadth escapes on the boat; concluding by a description of the exposures of the business, in consequence of which he was attacked by the ague.

His mother listened to the narration, which was more interesting to her than a novel, remarking at the close of it,

"God has wonderfully preserved you, and brought you back, in answer to my prayers."

James was too full to make much reply. He managed, however, to say, "Nobody saved me from drowning, that dark night, but God." This brief remark sent a thrill of pleasure through his mother's heart. With all his obedience and excellence of character, James had not given before so much evidence as this that he recognized his personal obligations to God. His mother construed it into genuine religious conviction, and she was rejoiced beyond measure by the revelation.

"You must say no more to-night; you must go to bed, and get some rest," added his mother. "In the morning I will see how you are, and what can be done for you."

Both retired; his mother to a restless bed, being too full of joy and grateful thoughts to sleep. She lived over her whole life again, during that night, with all its checkered scenes; and she penetrated the future. in imagination, and beheld her dear boy dignifying his manhood by an honorable and useful career. "If he could only become a preacher!" The thought grew upon her in the "night watches." It became a source

of real delight to her; and she thanked God, again and again, for his goodness. She found more enjoyment in wakefulness, and her thoughts, on that night, than she could have had in the sweetest sleep. It was the silent communing of a truly Christian heart. Very early in the morning Mrs. Garfield was at the bedside of her son, anxious to learn how he was. He was in a sound sleep. She waited until the sunlight was bathing his brow, when she entered his room again. Her presence awoke him.

"You've had a sweet sleep, James," she said, inquiringly.

"The best sleep I've had for a week," James answered. "I was dreadful tired last night. I feel better this morning."

The ague is a fitful disease, and attacks its victims periodically, leaving them comparatively comfortable and strong on some days. James was really very comfortable on that morning,-there was no visible appear. ance of the ague upon him, —and he proposed to get up, dress himself, and look about the home that seemed more pleasant to him than ever. Returning to the kitchen, Mrs. Garfield prepared some simple remedy for him, such as pioneers were wont to administer to ague-patients. Pioneers were more or less familiar with the discase, and understood somewhat how to manage it. In severe cases a physician was called in to administer calomel - that was considered a specific at that time-- until salivation was produced.

James was not comfortable long. On the following day a violent attack of the disease prostrated him com pletely.

"There's a hard bunch on my left side, and pain," said James to his mother.

"That's the ague-cake," replied his mother, on examining the spot. "That always appears in severe cases." The name was given by pioneers to the hardness; perhaps physicians called it by some other

name.

Don't

"You are pretty sick, my son," continued Mrs. Garfield, "and I think you must have the doctor. you think you better have the doctor?"

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'Perhaps so; just as you think about it," was James' reply.

The physician of a neighboring village was sent for; and he put the patient through the usual calomel treatment, salivating him, and really causing him to suffer more by the remedy than by the disease. For weeks the big, strong boy lay almost as weak and helpless as a child. It was a new and rough experience for James. It was the first sickness he ever had; and to lie in bed and toss with fever, and shake with ague, by turns, was harder for him than chopping wood or planing boards. But for the wise manage ment and tender care of his mother his experience would have been much more trying yet.

"How fortunate it was, James, that you came home when you did," remarked his mother.

"It was so, though I should have come home before long, if I had been well," replied James.

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Then you thought of giving up work on the canal?" continued Mrs. Garfield.

"Yes; I got about enough of it. Amos told me that I was a fool to follow such business when I am

capable of something better," replied James, dropping just a word concerning his interview with Captain Letcher.

"I should agree with Amos on that," remarked his mother, smiling. "You knew that before."

"If God saved my life on that night, I didn't know but he saved it for something," added James; another indication of higher aspirations, that gratified his mother very much.

"If God did not save your life, it would be hard telling who did," responded Mrs. Garfield. "None of us should be blind to the lessons of His Providence. It's my opinion that the Lord didn't mean you should go to sea, and so he headed you off by that monster of a captain."

"Perhaps so," James answered, in a tone that might indicate either indifference or weakness.

"If God answers my prayers, James, you'll get an education, and be a teacher or preacher. My cup will run over when I see you in such a position.'

"What if I should be a lawyer," remarked James. "Well, I shall not object to that, if you are a good man. A wicked lawyer is almost as bad as a sailor. Above all things, I want you should feel that the Lord has the first claim upon your love and service. Don't you ever think, James, that you ought to give your heart to Him, and try for a more useful life?"

This question was unexpected to James, at the time, although such interrogations had often been put to him formerly. Indeed, the inquiry that Mrs. Garfield put was unexpected to herself, for she did not intend to put such a question when the conversation