He was our encyclopedia, and we were never tired of listening to his speeches, nor he of making them.

He never passed a celebrated locality, from Bashan to Bethlehem, without illuminating it with an oration.

One day, when camped near the ruins of Jericho, he burst forth with something like this: "Jack, do you see that range of mountains over yonder that bounds the Jordan valley?
The mountains of Moab, Jack! Think of it, my boy--the actual mountains of Moab--renowned in Scripture history! We are actually standing face to face with those illustrious crags and peaks--and for all we know" [dropping his voice impressively], "our eyes may be resting at this very moment upon the spot WHERE LIES THE MYSTERIOUS GRAVE OF MOSES! Think of it, Jack!" "Moses who ?" (falling inflection).
"Moses who! Jack, you ought to be ashamed of yourself--you ought to be ashamed of such criminal ignorance.

Why, Moses, the great guide, soldier, poet, lawgiver of ancient Israel! Jack, from this spot where we stand, to Egypt, stretches a fearful desert three hundred miles in extent--and across that desert that wonderful man brought the children of Israel!--guiding them with unfailing sagacity for forty years over the sandy desolation and among the obstructing rocks and hills, and landed them at last, safe and sound, within sight of this very spot; and where we now stand they entered the Promised Land with anthems of rejoicing! It was a wonderful, wonderful thing to do, Jack! Think of it!" "Forty years?
Only three hundred miles?
Humph! Ben Holliday would have fetched them through in thirty-six hours!" The boy meant no harm.

He did not know that he had said anything that was wrong or irreverent.