"I haven't had such an appetite in months," said the clergyman, as he sat down at the breakfast-table with the family.
And his happy face shed a pleasant sunshine on all around. Mr. Royden invited him to ask a blessing on the food; and, in a fervent tone, and an earnest, simple manner, he lifted up his heart in thankfulness to the great Giver.
As Mrs. Royden poured the coffee, she appeared to think it necessary to make some apologies. They did not often use that beverage in her family, she said, and she was not skilled in its preparation.
"I am afraid it is not very clear," she added.
"No," said the clergyman, "it is not clear enough for me. The only drink that is clear enough for me"—holding up a glass of pure cold water—"is this."
"But you will try a cup of coffee? Or a cup of tea, at least?"
"I never use either, except when I need some such restorative. Last night a fine cup of tea was a blessing. This morning I require nothing of the kind."
"But you cannot make out a breakfast on our plain fare, without something to drink besides water."
The old man smiled serenely.
"Your fare cannot be too plain for me. I often breakfast luxuriously on a slice of brown bread and a couple of apples."