“Sister Bostwick is well known to me. I have sung for her in tent meetings, near Chicago. She is a saint of God. I want you to read the place I have marked, if you cannot find time to go through the whole book.”
In the privacy of my room, when Thropper chanced not to be around—for I did not want him to see me reading Jason’s book—I read the extract. It recounted, in a very rambling manner, the “third-birth” of Miss Bostwick—who, by the way, had been so inconsiderable a person as a seamstress who exhorted in revival services. The tale went on to show how, as a young girl, Selina had been especially addicted to wearing gaudy jewelry: stone-tipped hat-pins, glass ornamented combs, two rings, one with a cluster of imitation rubies, the other a plain band, which had been her mother’s wedding-ring, and various brooches and fancy studs. These, it seemed, had entirely prevented Selina from entering into the deeper faith in God, and for proof argued that so long as she fastened her heart on those trinkets she had never once been able to preach or exhort in meeting or revival. Then the day came when she plucked them from her and threw them in her trunk. From that day on, she had gone into the world preaching and exhorting successfully!
When I returned the book to Jason, he entered into a long discussion with me, and by the subconscious seriousness he had created in my heart over the question of ornaments and the kingdom, and because I was getting weary of the theme, and also because the tie-pin and the watch-chain were becoming eyesores to me, I finally said,
“Oh, I’ll stop wearing them, I guess!”
Jason rubbed his white hands and patted me on the shoulders.
“There is joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth,” he quoted.
“I’m not a sin—Oh, don’t let us get into any more arguments over the matter,” I corrected, eager to be out of the reach of my persecutor. “Here they are; both of them to be put in a drawer—or something.”
I pulled out the tie-pin and unfastened the watch-chain. Then I was perplexed.
“But, Jason,” I remonstrated, “I have to carry this watch, you know. The watch-chain was handy. It kept me from losing the watch. What am I to do, if I don’t have this chain? It seems to me that I had best keep wearing it. What do you do for your watch?”
As he pulled out a gold Waltham I felt like asking him if it would not be more consistent for him to wear a nickel-plated one, but remembering Thropper’s comments, I expected Jason would argue that it was more economical to buy a gold watch on account of its wearing qualities and reliability, so I kept the protest to myself. Jason’s watch was attached to a woven black chain, which, he said, he had made from a long shoe-lace!