"Yes, I am a stranger in Indiana. I have been following the timber along the creek, and looking out on the prairie islands. This is a beautiful country. Nature has covered it with grasses and flowers, and the bees will swarm here some day; I see them now; the air is all bright with them, my boy."
"I don't see any bees; it isn't the time of year for 'em. Do you cobble?"
"You don't quite understand me. I was speaking spiritually. Yes, I cobble to pay my way. Yes, my boy."
"Do you preach?"
"Yes, and teach the higher branches—like Crawford. He teaches the higher branches, does he not?"
"Don't make any odds where he gets 'em. I didn't know that he used the higher branches. He just cuts a stick anywhere, and goes at 'em, he does."
"You do not comprehend me, my boy. I teach the higher branches in new schools—Latin and singing. I do not use the higher branches of the trees."
"Latin! Then you must be a wizard."
"No, no, my boy. I am one of the Brethren—called. My new name is Jasper. I chose that name because I needed polishing. Do you see? Well, the Lord is doing his work, polishing me, and I shall shine by and by. 'They that turn many to righteousness shall shine like the stars of heaven.' They call me the Parable."
"Then you be a Tunker?"