"Such teaching is necessary, is it not?" Douglas queried.
"I do not deny that at all. But it is poor food to satisfy the soul, especially when it is served at every meal. The trouble is that so many young men leave college with stereotyped ideas. They are parrots and repeat what they have been taught, and nothing else."
Douglas winced a little at these words, for he knew how well they applied to himself. But he was beginning to see life in a new light since he had become plain John Handyman.
"We need a man who has seen and experienced life," the professor continued, "and can convert the great thoughts of the Bible into living food for hungry, troubled and tempted souls. I wish every clergyman would take a page from the life of the little bee. People as a rule think that it gets the honey right from the flower. They are mistaken. All it gets is a little sweet water. But it takes that water, retires, adds something to it from itself, and by a process of its own makes it into honey."
"Isn't that funny!" Nan exclaimed. "Why I always thought the bees carried the honey on their legs and scraped it off when they got home. Didn't you think so, Nell?"
"I confess I did," was the laughing reply. "It shows us that we have much to learn about the common things around us."
"Well, what the bee does, so should the teacher of the Word," the professor resumed. "He should go to the Bible as the bee to the flower, and 'read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest.' Thus, through a process of his own, he is to bring forth the real spiritual honey for the benefit of hungry souls."
"Daddy, let's talk about something else," Nan suggested. "I am tired of such deep subjects. I was promised that I could talk to Mr. Handyman the next time he came, and there are so many things I want to ask him."
Douglas glanced at the clock and was surprised to find that it was nearly nine. He rose at once to his feet.
"I must go now," he remarked. "It would not do for me to keep you up late."