Quickly the tears on his cheeks, were illuminated by a smile as he said—"That's my watchword; I carry it in my hat, have it hung up on my wall at home, and since I went into my present business, I've tried to make it the daily practice of my life."
"May I inquire what your business is?"
"Certainly, sir, my business is serving the Lord, and there is no business like it in the universe. It pays good dividends, brings me no worry, insures me a good standing in the best society; feeds me on the fat of the land, fills my heart with peace and makes me an heir to a kingdom, a robe and a crown. Bankruptcy and bad debts never stare me in the face, and every draft I draw is honored at the bank. Thus, I 'hinder nobody,' and am able to 'help every body.'"
"Where do you reside?" I asked.
"On Pisgah's top"—and his face fairly shone as he repeated it—"on Pisgah's top. At first I lived down in the valley among Ezekiel's dry bones, and used to help the multitudes sing—
"'Could we but climb where Moses stood,
And view the landscape o'er:
Not Jordan's stream nor death's cold flood,
Should fright us from the shore.'
"But I moved on and up to my present residence, and now I sing—
"'From Pisgah's top, the promised land,
I now exult to see:
My hope is full, oh, glorious hope,
Of immortality.'
"But I beg your pardon, sir; am I crowding you?"
"Crowding me? not a bit of it. I trust I shall always have room for company like you."