I sat down beside him, for from his manner I knew that he welcomed me to be his confidant.
“Who says so? Any of the students?” I asked.
“No, it wouldn’t matter if it came from them: the church says so!”
“What church is that, Tucker?”
He sat up in his chair and replied,
“I have just started to preach, this year. I have been out for two Sundays in a little place where they give me seven dollars, out of which I have to pay a dollar and a half for expenses. It’s not that I care a snap about the money, though, but I want a place to call my parish. I feel that I ought to preach. Well, I’ve got a letter from the committee this morning, telling me that they will have to get along without me; that they cannot have me any longer for their minister.”
“What reasons do they offer?”
“That’s it!” he responded, with a catch in his voice, “they have had the bravery to tell me the exact reason. It is this: they tell me—oh, hadn’t you better read for yourself,” and he handed me the last page of a letter, explaining,
“It’s all on that one page: all that you want to know.”
I read: