"I _do_ love it, Rege. Jesus Christ was a carpenter, you know. I get
very near to him out here."

"Jesus Christ!" echoed Reginald with a puzzled stare. "What is coming
to you, John?"

"It has come, Rege," John said with a great light in his face. "I have
found my Master."

"Upon my word, John, you are the queerest fellow! What next, I wonder?"

"The next thing, Rege," and John laid his hand affectionately upon his
friend's shoulder, "is for you to find him too."

"So, you're going to turn preacher, John? You'll find me a hard subject.
A short life and a merry one is what I am going in for. I've no turn for
Christianity."

"It pays, Rege."

"Don't believe it. How can life be worth living when you're drivelling
psalm tunes all day long?"

John laughed, and there was a new note of gladness in his voice which
Reginald was quick to notice. "I haven't begun to drivel yet, Rege; and
life counts for a good deal more when a man has an object than when he
is living just to please himself."

"And who should a man please but himself, I should like to know?"

"Jesus Christ."

* * * * *

"Upon my word!" said Reginald some weeks later, as he came upon John
sitting astride a cobbler's bench busily mending a pair of shoes, while
Nan looked on admiringly. "Do you learn a new trade every month?"

John laughed quietly. "I took up this one because there are so many
repairs always needed on the harness, and your father thinks all talent
should be utilized."

There was a quizzical look about his mouth as he spoke. Reginald caught
the look and answered hotly.

"The governor ought to be ashamed of himself! Why don't you strike,
John?"

"Why should I? Knowledge is power, Rege."

"Knowledge of shoemaking!" said Reginald contemptuously. "It won't add
to your strength much, John."

"Never can tell," said John sententiously. "You remember that lame
fellow saved a battle for us by knowing how to shoe the general's
horse."

"Next thing you'll be going in for a blacksmith's diploma!"

"I'm thinking of it," said John coolly. "That fellow at the Forks has no
more sense than a hen. He pared so much off Neptune's hoof last week
that he has been limping ever since. I had to take him this morning and
have the shoes removed."

"I wish you'd do some shirking, John, like the rest of us."

"Jesus Christ never shirked, Rege."

"Pshaw! You're so ridiculous!" and Reginald walked discontentedly away.

"