"
"But you need a vacation. Ail preachers take vacations. Why, in the
cities, they--"
"Yes, ma'm," he broke in. "Sometimes they shut up their churches, I
know, and they go away from their desks and their pulpits; but they are
learned men, bristling with sharp points against the man who attacks
their creed. I am not armed that way. I can't argue; I can't defend the
church against the smart men that Satan has hired. All I can do is to
preach in my rough way and go about and beg men to do as near right as
they can."
"And St. Paul could not have done more, Mr. Reverend."
"Ah," he said, bowing low, and then looking up at her. "I am afraid of
St. Paul. He was a great scholar and in his hands the gospel was a
dazzling thing. But with poor, ignorant Peter it was simple; and I
choose Peter for my master because I am not afraid of him."
Below them Tom and Lou sat on a rock. The game young fellow was still
shy. Sometimes he looked as if he despaired of ever recovering his
wonted nerve, for in this girl, so modest and so shrinking, he knew that
there lay asleep the wildcat's fearful spirit.
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