To this day, he can't talk long, without
showing, in one way or another, that his old familiarity with the trees
still keeps its place in his memory. He looked hard at Miss Mellicent,
under his shaggy old white eyebrows; and I heard him whisper to
himself, 'Ah, dear me! Another of The Fallen Leaves!' I knew what he
meant. The people who have drawn blanks in the lottery of life--the
people who have toiled hard after happiness, and have gathered nothing
but disappointment and sorrow; the friendless and the lonely, the
wounded and the lost--these are the people whom our good Elder Brother
calls The Fallen Leaves. I like the saying myself; it's a tender way of
speaking of our poor fellow-creatures who are down in the world."
He paused for a moment, looking out thoughtfully over the vast void of
sea and sky. A passing shadow of sadness clouded his bright young face.
The two elder men looked at him in silence, feeling (in widely
different ways) the same compassionate interest. What was the life that
lay before him? And--God help him!--what would he do with it?
"Where did I leave off?" he asked, rousing himself suddenly.
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