"Go-go-what's his name?"
"Goliath."
"Go-go-li-yah is one of them there fellers you read about in books. That's the reason I did not know nothin' about him. You see, I can't read much, my lad. Squire Grundy says I'm got to larn better, and how to write, too, before the next election. But now, just tell me about the Go-go-li-yah."
"He was a very big man—a giant," began Owen. "David was a small boy. The two had a fight, and the little boy killed the big giant."
"And that's the reason the preacher called me Go-go-li-yah," said Mr. Lane; "because I was a big man, and was whipped by you. But what did old Go-li-yah fight with—a horse-pistol, I reckon?"
"N-o-o-o," replied Owen, with another prolonged surprise. "Goliath used a sword, and David a sling."
"One of them things that boys use for throwing rocks?" inquired Mr. Lane.
"Yes, sir. But here's a picture of the fight. You see, here's the giant lying on his back. David has taken Goliath's sword and has raised it to cut off his head."
"Served him right," answered the visitor, calmly. "If he'd only had sense enough to use a rifle or a ho'se-pistol he wouldn't have had his darn noggle chopped off."
Owen continued to turn the pages of the history slowly, while he narrated some of the striking events of the Old and New Testament. Mr. Lane listened with the simplicity of a child. How he marveled at the passage of the Red Sea—the pillar of fire and luminous cloud in the desert—the fall of the walls of Jericho.