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Connor, Ralph, Pseudonym, 1860-1937

"Black Rock: a Tale of the Selkirks"

'
'Will the other work?' asked Rattray, with a sneer.
'Sure!' said Grame; 'I've seen it.'
'Where?' challenged Rattray. 'I haven't seen much of it.'
'Yes, you have, Rattray, you know you have,' said Wig again. But Rattray
ignored him.
'I'll tell you, boys,' said Graeme. 'I want you to know, anyway, why I
believe what I do.'
Then he told them the story of old man Nelson, from the old coast days,
before I knew him, to the end. He told the story well. The stern fight
and the victory of the life, and the self-sacrifice and the pathos of
the death appealed to these men, who loved fight and could understand
sacrifice.
'That's why I believe in Jesus Christ, and that's why I think it a crime
to fling His name about!'
'I wish to Heaven I could say that,' said Beetles.
'Keep wishing hard enough and it will come to you,' said Graeme.
'Look here, old chap,' said Rattray; 'you're quite right about this;
I'm willing to own up. Wig is correct. I know a few, at least, of that
stamp, but most of those who go in for that sort of thing are not much
account'
'For ten years, Rattray,' said Graeme in a downright, matter-of-fact
way, 'you and I have tried this sort of thing'--tapping a bottle--'and
we got out of it all there is to be got, paid well for it, too,
and--faugh! you know it's not good enough, and the more you go in for
it, the more you curse yourself.


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