The hundreds stood waiting for Jim's answer. It was a hush of expectancy, such as fitted that holy night.
Jim answered slowly, measuring his words:
"I heard my Father calling and I went to answer Him!"
[CHAPTER IX]
HONEY-MOONING ON THE FLAKES
Jim lapsed into silence and his wife, laying down her mending, poked the fire and soon had tea brewing. The Landers are tea drinkers like the English.
"It's a beautiful story, sir, and we often live it over again," Mrs. Jim said as she poured the tea. I noted the flow-blue china and, answering my query, she said:
"It was my grandfather's. He brought it from England sixty years ago. Of course we're awful careful of it, but we use it, for Jim says the only way to have plenty is to use what you have. We always keep a pot handy and there's always a ready chair, for many a time a neighbor drops in and we wouldn't want to let them go on without a cup o' tea,—a cup o' kindness, Jim calls it."