"
"Did you?" he asked eagerly. "Did you?"
I could see that my proposal of going to church had instantly
affected his spirits. Then he hesitated abruptly with a sidelong
glance at my bag and rusty clothing. I could see exactly what was
passing in his mind.
"No," I said, smiling, as though answering a spoken question, "I
am not exactly what you would call a tramp."
He flushed.
"I didn't mean--I WANT you to come. That's what a church is for.
If I thought--"
But he did not tell me what he thought; and, though he walked
quietly at my side, he was evidently deeply disturbed. Something
of his discouragement I sensed even then, and I don't think I was
ever sorrier for a man in my life than I was for him at that
moment. Talk about the suffering sinners! I wonder if they are to
be compared with the trials of the saints?
So we approached the little white church, and caused, I am
certain, a tremendous sensation. Nowhere does the unpredictable,
the unusual, excite such confusion as in that settled
institution--the church.
I left my bag in the vestibule, where I have no doubt it was the
object of much inquiring and suspicious scrutiny, and took my
place in a convenient pew. It was a small church with an odd air
of domesticity, and the proportion of old ladies and children in
the audience was pathetically large.
Pages:
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85