They come aud sit bj his bcd when he
ls about to fall aslcop. They greet him
the moment when he awakens In the
morning. Some of these faces are old.
Some are young. Soma aie Just bud?
ding Into young womanhood. Some
are middle aged. But these faces are
always about us. They are about you.
They are about me. *
They are about ns when we are at
home; they are about us when we are
away from home. We may be travel?
ing In a railroad train a thousand miles
away from our own firesides. It is
the evening hour. We are tired of
reading the book. We throw it down
and rest our heads upon our hands
and look oul of the window and begin
to see many faces. "Yes," we say to
ourselves, "this ls the evening hour.
Our wives are putting the babies to
bed." People may say we are alone In
a railroad train, but we are not. We
are home. I tell you we are home.
