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Connor, Ralph, Pseudonym, 1860-1937

"Black Rock: a Tale of the Selkirks"


'Would you preach election to that chap?'
The mother's eyes were shining with tears.
The old gentleman blew his nose like a trumpet, and then said gravely--
'No, my boy, you don't feed babes with meat. But what came to him?'
Then Graeme asked me to finish the tale. After I had finished the
story of Billy's final triumph and of Craig's part in it, they sat long
silent, till the minister, clearing his throat hard and blowing his nose
more like a trumpet than ever, said with great emphasis--
'Thank God for such a man in such a place! I wish there were more of us
like him.'
'I should like to see you out there, sir,' said Graeme admiringly;
'you'd get them, but you wouldn't have time for election.'
'Yes, yes!' said his father warmly; 'I should love to have a chance
just to preach election to these poor lads. Would I were twenty years
younger!'
'It is worth a man's life,' said Graeme earnestly. His younger brother
turned his face eagerly toward the mother. For answer she slipped her
hand into his and said softly, while her eyes shone like stars--
'Some day, Jack, perhaps! God knows.


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