A “leading” or nor, all the boys were delighted with the project. Will Carter pronounced Mr. Vance a “brick,” and the factory boys gave three cheers and a “tiger” when he came out of the office with a leave-of-absence for the whole half-dozen.
The appointed day was the very perfection of an Indian summer. They were on the road long before sunrise, the big moving-wagon having been duly packed with cooking utensils, bedding, and provisions the night before. There were sixteen in all, including Mr. Vance and the driver. They reached their destination in time to catch the fish for their dinner. Cooking it, eating it, getting up the tents, going in swimming, hunting for crabs, and strolling over the beach used up the afternoon. Everybody declared the sun had cheated them, and slipped out of sight an hour too soon.
And then, all the long, cool, delicious evening, they lounged on the rocks, telling stories, guessing riddles, singing familiar songs,—was there ever anything half so jolly?—with the round, full moon overhead and the great tranquil ocean spread out before them.
“And not the least bit of a preach,” thought Will, as he rolled himself up in his blanket and stretched out beside Dick, already sound asleep. “I had my suspicions he’d contrive to make us feel earthquake-y before he let us off for the night. But that little short prayer was well enough, and I certainly never heard anything like that one hundred and seventh Psalm. I wonder if it was the way he recited it, or having the ‘wonders of the deep’ right before us. You could almost see the ‘stormy winds’ lifting up those huge waves. And how grand it was when we all repeated together, ‘Oh, that men would praise the Lord for His goodness, and for His wonderful works to the children of men!’ I don’t see how Mr. Blackman can help believing there is a God. I wonder if he ever read that Psalm. There’s something in this religion. What a different boy Dick is! But then, there was room enough for improvement. Now, I’ve always done the best I could, unless it is about going to those meetings, and I mean to go some time when it comes right. I’ve really meant, ever since that first Sunday Mr. Vance talked to us, to think more about such things, and—What’s that? Somebody singing!”
VII.
ALMOST PERSUADED.
“Then Agrippa said unto Paul, Almost thou persuades me to be a Christian.”
Somebody was singing,—a rich, clear, tenor voice. Will could hear every word distinctly:—
“‘Almost persuaded’ now to believe,
‘Almost persuaded’ Christ to receive.