"Don't you know?"
"No, I don't," said Fenton. "That's just it. If I knew any good reason, of course it would be different." And he sagely muttered something about "priestcraft."
"There are two reasons," said Mr. Murray calmly, while Maggie flushed up and even Esther stared at her brother.
"I never knew any," responded Fenton.
"Do you care to know them?"
"If they are reasons," Fenton rejoined impudently, "it would be unreasonable not to care."
"Very true," said Mr. Murray smiling. "I will begin with the lesser of the two. It is found in the nature of man, Fenton. Man is so constituted that he cannot, year in and year out, stand a seven days' strain. Neither brain nor muscle will bear it. That has been tested and proved. In the long run, man cannot do as much working seven days, as he can do working only six days."
Fenton knew that what his uncle gave as a fact was likely to be a fact; he had no answer ready at first. Then he said, "I spoke of fishing, sir; that is play, not work."
"As you do it, I suppose it is. But we are talking of the fact of one day in seven being set apart from the rest, and the reasons. You see one reason."
"What's the other?"