"He carried away the gates of Gaza on his back, Seth."
Seth remained thoughtful for some time. "It all depends on how big the gates were," he said at last. "That gate down there is a pretty heavyish one, but Rube Pearson could have carried away two sich as that, and me sitting on the top of them. What else did he do?"
"He was bound in new cords, and he broke them asunder, Seth."
Seth did not appear to attach much importance to this, and inquired, "Did he do anything else?"
"He killed three hundred men with the jawbone of an ass."
"He killed—" Seth began, and then paused in sheer astonishment.
Then he looked sharply round: "You're making fun of me, lad."
"No, indeed, Seth," Charley said; "it is quite true."
"What! that a man killed three hundred men with the jawbone of an ass? It couldn't have been; it was sheer impossible—unless they were all asleep, and even then it would be an awful job."
"I don't know how it was, Seth, but the Bible tells us, and so it must be true. I think it was a sort of miracle."
"Oh, it was a miracle!" Seth said thoughtfully, and then remained silent, evidently pondering in his own mind as to what a miracle was, but not liking to ask.