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Within thy warmth and light I feelThat life, that death, that all is well."

My Creedf cannot kneel and pray

To wind or water, or to etherealWide spaces, for they do not meet my need

From day to day.

Not evolutio,n's tale,Nor layered stones of science coid and bareCan sooth and comfort and lift out the spirit

From sorrow's vale.

But in some quiet place,A temple, or a lovely woodland scene,My full heart speaks, and I lift eyes unto

My Father's face.

-Agatha Tiegel Hanson.

and as I knew him better than I did them, heseemed to lead them all. His graduates showeda high degree of education and good character,and attained a good degree of success after leav-ing school.

These six y.ears at Faribault are for me full ofpleasant memories. In the fall, shortly afterschool opened, came the glory of the autumnleaves, the frost transforming the landscapewith a colorful brush. Then, as it grew colderand the snow fell, there were sieigh rides underwarm bufialo robes. It was in the day beforeautomobiles, and the horses trotted to the soundof jingling bells, which we seemed to hear. Laterstill, on the crooked litt1e river near the school,waggishly named Straight River, were the fre-quent skating parties when pupils and teachersmingled, stopping now and then in their skatingto warm fingers and toes at the flres on the bank.And the coasting parties down the long snowyslopes, on great bob-sleds expertly controlled bykeen eyeS and quick strong arms. f particularlyremember one coasting party made up of teach-ers, who shot down the long hiII on a briiliantlymoonlit night. The big boys made skis in thecarpenter shop and were seen out of school hoursspeeding down the hills.

On Sundays Tom Sheridan and I, being un-married, had long free afternoons, during whichwe visited alternately at the Smith and Schwirtzhomes, short walks away. When the freshly

ReminiscencesBy Agatha Tiegel Hanson

Washington, D. C.As the years have passed and I have frequently

glanced back at my girlhood, I realize more andmore how fortunate f was to attend Gallaudet'just when I did, graduating with the class of1893. Our patron saint was then in his prime.One birthday morning I remember his cominginto the senior class he conducted, and when,the applause had subsided he said with a smile,"l am flfty-flve years young.,, And indeed hewas. Dr. Fay and Professors Hotchkiss andDraper, the three men who next to Gallaudetmost influenced the students, were also in theirbest years. The various cdntacts we had withthese men, in the classrocim, in the groups ofon-lookers on the athletic fleld, at the chapeltalks, at social gatherings, and in the cordiaJkindness and flne manners of their homes, haveinfluenced for life, miany other students besidesmyself. f particularly remember the Sundaymorning Bible classes, the seniors with Dr. Gal-laudet. These friendly contacts, and the deepinterest shown to every one of us, made ourcbllege days golden ones. The weeks, mo.nths.and years slipped away, and all too -soon w"estood at the threshold of the world, where wehad to prove that we were worth all the instruc-tion, care and kindness that we had received.

Then for me fotlowed another fortunate oc-currence. I was appointed a teacher at the Fari-bault, Minnesota, School for the Deaf, a,nd passedfrom the pleasanf environment of Gallaudet tothe equally pleasant surroundings of the Minne-sota School.. This school was built up and fosteredby Dr. J. L. Noyes, who was a man sent by Godfor that work. TalI arid serious, imposing andyet unassuming, he'created a fatherly and benignatmosphere at that school. It vras iike a, big,happy family, and the creed of Dr. Noyes wasto do his duty every day, and well indeed didhe do it. His interest extended to every pupil,teacher, and .employee. He belonged to the sreatsuperintendents of that day, ranking with Currier,Crouter, Wilkinson, Peet, Jones, Gillett, Mathison, Agatha Tiegel l{anson

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fallen snow was deep and had not yet beencleared from the paths, Tom would go aheadand I would follow, planting my footsteps in his.We always received a cordial welcome at thesetwo homes, whose ladies were of a hospitablespirit. There we sat, safe and warm, the Smithswith us at the Schwirtz house, and the Schwirtzesat the Smith abode, and discussed every topic,history, religion, politics, people, current events.Dr. Smith being principal and the exceedinglyable editor of the Companion, was, if not a pro,-fessor at the breakfast table, then a professorat our Sunday afternoon gatherings. He had amasterly command of strong, clear English, andforceful plain sign language, and we listened tohim with absorption while the afternoon hourssped away. Sometimes Mr. L. C. Tuck was withus, and though he was an abie thinker andspeaker on his own aeeount, he usually preferredto sit back, observe and listen. Occasionally Dr.Olof Hanson joined the group and he and Dr.Smith had discussions which held the interestof us all. They were in opposite political camps,or pretended to be for the sake of argument.Tom, being newly out of college, was contentmostly to listen to the older men, though nowand then we had a glimpse of his characteristichumor.

And so six happy years glided away, and thecontacts I made both at Gallaudet and at Fari-bault have given me the conviction that there isnothing under heaven so fine as simple kindness,p'lain honesty, and an unassuming demeanor.

"Sublimity always is simple," says our greatpoet, Lo'ngfellow.

Flistory of the Purple HeartGeneral Washington Dinned the first one q a soldier from

Conne{ticut, a man whose direct descendant was to win it ata place called Guadalcanal - - .

By Pauline Maekie HopkinsA few years ago an o d coat of blue honrespun

was found in a barn in New Hampshire. A tinysilk heart, bound with a tarnished gold cord, uraspinned on the left breast of the coat and suffr-cient color remained in the fadeC silk to identifythe decoration as the Badge of Merit, the PurpleHeart. It looked more like a Valentine, or asmall pin-cushion for a lady's workbag, than anorder designed and conferred by one of thegreatest and most uncompromising generals whoever lived.

The co,at had belonged to Daniel Bissell, a sol-dier of the American Revolution, one of thethree men-all from Connecticut-on whomGeneral Washington loestowed the decoration.

The others were Sergeant William Brown, whoreceived it "for unusual fldelity and rnost es,sen-tial service," and Sergeant Elijah Churchill, a car-penter of Enfleld, who was cited f.or his "ex-traordinary galiantry making midnight raids withhis small cornpany"-rather like our Comman-dos in the present war.

The original Purple Heart-now in Deerfleld,New Hampshire-is believed to be the flrst mil-itary decoration for bravery given without respectto ra,nk, except the Russian Order of St. George.It is thought that the purple silk of which theflrst ones were made was a gift, to be used for a

waistcoat, given to General W'ashington by aFrench friend.

It was in June, 1783, that the Purple Heart wasawarded to Sergeant Daniel Bisse1l, of the Sec-ond Connecticut Regiment of the ContinentalArmy-"sergeant Bissell having performed someimportant service with the intimate knowledge ofthe Commander-in-Chief in which the fidelity,Ferseverance and good sense of the said sergeantwere conspicuously manifested."

This "important service" started on an Augustafternoon in 1781 when Daniel Bisse]l, tall, brown-haired and hazel-eyed, walked up the brick-bordered path of the Dutch farmhouse at New-burgh, New York, where General Washington hadestablished his headquarters. The room he enteredwas a pleasa.nt one with heavy rafters and hugeflrepiace "so big that a man could stand uprightin it." A basket piled with sewing was on atable and a bunch of marigolds was in one of the'row of silver camp goblets on the mantel, for Mrs.Washington was in camp with her husband.

Bisseil saluted as the tall flgure of Washingtonfllled the narrow aperture.

"Sergeant," said the General, "you have beenhighly recommended to me by Colonel Hamilton.

'Thank you, sir.""I wish you to enter my secret service."Bissell paled, but he returned his commander's

Iook with as sincere and unflinching a gaze asthat which met his.

"Yes, sir.""f need exact and detailed information as to

what are the rsai intentions of the British. I havehad communications from them, telling me thatpeace negotiations are on the way, but from theperverse system of their p,olicy, I confess I aminclined to doubt and suspect everything fromthat quarter. I want you to go to New York andmingle wiih the officers and refugees in t,he tav-erns and coffee houses. I have other means offlnding out positions and supplies."

Washington paused and took a bottle of ink, apaper and purse of money from the desk. "Hereare written instructions and the na,me o,f myagent, to whom you will deliver information ofvalue. Memorize them and destroy the paper. Oc-casionally write your information on any newpublication, ends of books of small value, blankleaves of almanacs, but test the paper to be sureit is of good quality as the ink is not easily legibleon poor paper. The enemy will watch for letters,not so much for scraps of paper. This is a bottleof white ink. Be careful of it for I have not agreat supply. Use money openly when you needto. In order to give verisimilitude to your actionas a spy, take adva,ntage of the flrst opportunityto leave camp as a deserter. Remember we musthave New York back."

"Yes, sir. I will carry out. your instructionsto the letter," said Bissell.

Under the guise of going flshing, Bissell rowedup the river, set the boat adrift and rnade whatprogress he could the flrst night. At break ofdawn he entered a barn and found the ciothesof a drover, put them on and hid his uniformin the woods. He journeyed by night and lurkedin the woods by day. He saw men of his own eom-pany searching for "the deserter," and shudderedas he thought of his fate if he were caught.