“When I get home I shall wear brighter garments than these; and in the Valley of Shadows, money will not buy me even a cup of the living water which alone can slake my thirst.”
“You are a very queer old man,” said Seekpeace, as he glanced at the pilgrim’s face, upon which played a sweet smile.
“Perhaps I am. My neighbors call me Contented Poverty; and I think I am as happy as any of them,” replied the old man, as he resumed his journey.
Seekpeace did not know what to think of the old man. He did not see how he could be so happy, dressed in those coarse clothes, and with no money in his purse. He did not understand who the Master was that he served, nor why he was not paid for his work at the time he did it.
He noticed that the old man did not complain because he was not paid; and certainly he was a very happy man for one who had not received his wages.
When Seekpeace had gone a little farther, he saw a fine carriage drawn by six beautiful horses, in which was seated another old man. He was dressed in the richest and most costly garments.
“Who are you, sir?” asked Seekpeace, taking off his hat and bowing low to the old man.
“My name is Wealth; and I live in the great mansion which you see on the hill.”
“Where did you get all the money to enable you to purchase these fine horses, and these very rich garments, and the great house on the hill?”
“I gave myself up to the business of money-making.”