urious, sharp impatience. Had
any one the right to look out so dolefully upon such a day and such a
scene of simple happiness as this? So I took my whistle from my lips and
asked:

"Is God dead?"

I shall never forget the indescribable look of horror and astonishment
that swept over the young man's face.

"What do you mean, sir?" he asked with an air of stern authority which
surprised me. His calling for the moment lifted him above himself: it
was the Church which spoke.

I was on my feet in an instant, regretting the pain I had given him;
and yet it seemed worth while now, having made my inadvertent remark, to
show him frankly what lay in my mind. Such things sometimes help men.

"I meant no offence, sir," I said, "and I apologize for my flummery, but
when I saw you coming up the hill, looking so gloomy and disconsolate on
this bright day, as though you disapproved of God's world, the question
slipped out before I knew it."

My words evidently struck deep down into some disturbed inner
consciousness, for he asked--and his words seemed to slip out before he
thought:

"Is THAT the way I impressed you?"

I found my heart going out strongly toward him. "Here," I thought to
myself, "is a man in trouble."

I took a good long look at him. He still a young man, though
worn-looking--and sad as I now saw it, rather than gloomy--with the
sensitive lips and the unworldly look one sees sometimes in the faces of
saints. His black coat was immaculately neat, but the worn button-covers
and the shiny lapels told their own eloquent story. Oh, it seemed to me
I knew him as well as if every incident of his life were written
plainly upon his high, pale forehead! I have lived long in a country
neighbourhood, and I knew him--poor flagellant of the rural church--I
knew how he groaned under the sins of a Community too comfortably
willing to cast all its burdens on the Lord, or on the Lord's accredited
local representative. I inferred also the usual large family and the low
salary (scandalously unpaid) and the frequent moves from place to place.

Unconsciously heaving a sigh the young man turned partly aside and said
to me in a low, gentle voice:

"You are detaining my boys from church."

"I am very sorry," I said, "and I will detain them no longer," and with
that I put aside my whistle, took up my bag and moved down the hill with
them.

"The fact is," I said, "when I heard your bell I thought of going to
church myself."

"D