Volume I Part 30 (1/2)
”Yes,” said Mr. Linden; ”but I never saw such a piece of ground, yet.”
Mr. Simlins paused.
”Do you believe some folks can be better than they air already?” he asked.
”I believe all folks can.”
”You believe in cameras, then. How're you goin' to work?”
”To make people better?--set them to work for them selves, if I can.”
”What sort o' ploughs and harrows would you want 'em to take hold of?”
”They'll find out, when they set to work in earnest to make the ground yield the right sort of fruit,” said Mr. Linden.
”What do you call the right sort?” said the farmer, now thoroughly engaged. ”Aint as good as a man can do, the right sort?”
”Why yes,” said Mr. Linden again, ”but I tell you I never saw that sort of fruit ripe--and I'm not sure that I ever shall in this world. For the best fruit that the ground can yield, includes not only the best seed and cultivation, but the perfect keeping down of every weed, and the unchecked receiving of all sweet heavenly influences.”
”That's a camera!” said Mr. Simlins something shortly. ”You can't have all that in this world.”
”The fact that people cannot be perfect in this world, does not hinder their being better than they are.”
”Well, I say, how're you goin' to work to make it, when they're doin'
the best they can do, already?”
”Who is?”
”I am inclined to be of the opinion you air,” said Mr Simlins slowly.
”I won't say I be--but I don't know how to do no better.”
”Thank you, Mr. Simlins--” was the somewhat sorrowful reply,--”you may see what I do, but you do not see what I know. And for you, my friend--pray to know!--there can be no mistakes in the advice that comes from heaven.”
There was a minute's silence, till they came to a turning.
”I'd be glad to see you,” said Mr. Simlins in a somewhat lowered tone,--”ary one of you--down to my house, any time. _You_ can take care of her the rest of the way. Good night!”--
He turned off abruptly down a road that led his way.
They had been walking with slackened steps during this conversation, and the lingering memory of it still checked the pace of the two now left together:
”Silence accompanied; for beast and bird, They to their gra.s.sy couch, these to their nests,”
had all retreated. And when Mr. Linden spoke, it was not in his own words.
”'I thank thee, uncreated Sun, That thy bright beams on me have s.h.i.+ned!
I thank thee, who hast overthrown My foes, and healed my wounded mind!
I thank thee, whose enlivening voice Bids my freed heart in thee rejoice!
”'Thee will I love, my joy, my crown!