"By bein' one of 'em, an' not bein' too hard on what they do."
"Do you think that their great Master ever said that they would be popular, and that they were to please all men?" Reynolds defensively asked.
"I dunno. Guess I can't recall anything He ever said about the matter," and the old man scratched his head in perplexity.
"Didn't He tell His first disciples that they would be hated of all men for His name's sake when He sent them forth to do His work?"
"I believe He did," was the reluctant assent. "But that was a long time ago. Things are different now."
"Only outwardly, remember. The heart is the same in all ages; you can't change that. If it is evil and full of vileness, it is bound to hate the good. Surely you know that."
"Then you really are one of them missionary chaps?" and the old man eyed Reynolds curiously.
"No, I am not," was the emphatic reply.
"But ye quote Scripter like a parson, though. I thought mebbe ye was."
"Is it necessary to be a parson to know something about the Bible? Isn't this a Christian land? Why shouldn't I know something about the greatest Book in the world? My mother taught it to me when I was a child, and I learned a great deal about it when I went to Sunday school. I did not value it so much then, but when over in France, with death on all sides, much of it came back to me, and I honestly confess it was a great comfort."