'It was a rough one--cut from the hedge, I remember.' At every puff of wind the tree turned white, till they could not bear to look at it; and they walked away.
'I see him every night,' Cornelius murmured.

.

.

'Ah, we read our _Hebrews_ to little account, Jos! [Greek text].

To have endured the cross, despising the shame--there lay greatness! But now I often feel that I should like to put an end to trouble here in this self-same spot.' 'I have thought of it myself,' said Joshua.
'Perhaps we shall, some day,' murmured his brother.