k was a philosopher
and no subject was out of his field. Hartigan liked Shives, enjoyed the
shop with its smoke and flying sparks, and took a keen relish in the
unfettered debate that filled in the intervals between Shives's ringing
blows on the anvil.

Dr. Jebb thought himself a very up-to-date divine. He had tried to have
a sort of free discussion in his study Sunday nights after meeting, but
the restraint of parsondom was over it all. He was really a painfully
orthodox old person; all his up-to-dateness was within the covers of the
catechism, and the real thinkers kept away. Dr. Carson had better
success, but he was a bitter politician, so that all who differed from
him on national or local politics avoided his house. The blacksmith
shop, however, was open for all, and the real discussions of the village
were there. Shives had a masterful way of assuming the chairmanship, and
of doing the job well, often while pounding the anvil; sometimes an
effective punctuation of his remarks came in the hiss of hot iron thrust
in the tank, and Shives enjoyed the humour of obliterating his opponent
for the moment in a cloud of steam.

Jim Hartigan, with his genial, sociable instincts, was found in Shives's
shop more often than in the tiny room which, with the bed, table, and
books, was all he had in the way of home. Dr. Jebb was afraid to take
any large part in these deliberations. They were apt to discuss what he
considered the undiscussable foundations of the Church. But Dr. Carson
was one of the most strenuous of the debators.

"I tell you, there ain't a bit o' use o' your talking," said Shives. "If
I stick my finger in that fire, I'm a-going to get burnt and all the
prayers and repentance I can put up ain't a-going to wipe off that burn.
I've got to suffer for what I do just the same, whether I belong to
church or not."

"Sure, now," said Hartigan, "if I see your point, there is little to it.
You are talking about sin being its own punishment, which is true; but
suppose a doctor came along and by his work and skill saved you from
losing the finger altogether and in the end your finger was little the
worse and you were much the wiser--what about your theory then?"

"That is not the point. If it was the same thing, when I hurt my finger
I would only have to say, 'I repent; the Lord will take my punishment,'
and at once my finger would be restored as it was before."

"Well, that may be your Church's creed, but it isn't mine