Even that man whom we thought was
such a brute became gentle."
"That's true, ma'm, but I think that there's one man that is absolutely
depraved. Not the murderer, for he might feed the hungry. Not the
wife-beater, for afterward he might beg her forgiveness and kiss her.
Not the man that would rob the dead, for he might give a penny to a
little child. But the man whose soul is in love with money. I don't
mean his soul, for he has none, but the man whose every thought is
money, money. He is a murderer, a wife-beater, a robber of the dead. He
can sleep at night when he knows that by his shrewdness, which has won
him friends among the rich, he has stretched out upon the bare floor a
starving child. Christ did not die for that man."
"No, Mr. Reverend," she replied, her head hung low; and something
dropped upon his hand--a tear.
Like two birds Lou and Tom were twittering. He asked her if she had been
happy that day because she did not think, and she answered that she had
been happy because she had thought.
Suddenly someone ran out of the woods in front of the steers.
Pages:
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138