He stood arguing, received another snub, and went out bawling and threatening, with the contorted face and clumsy flourishes of some fabulous hero on a screen.
The missionary approached smiling, but like a man who has finished the day's work.
"That fellow--Good-evening: and welcome to our Street Chapel, Mr.
Hackh--That fellow," he glanced after the retreating figure, "he's a lesson in perseverance, gentlemen.

A merchant, well-to-do: he has a lawsuit coming on--notorious--and tries to join us for protection.
Cheaper to buy a little belief, you know, than to pay Yamen fines.
Every night he turns up, grinning and bland.

I tell him it won't do, and out he goes, snorting like a dragon." Rudolph's impulse came to a head.
"Dr.Earle," he stammered, "I owe you a gratitude.

You spoke to these people so--as--I do not know.

But I listened, I felt--Before always are they devils, images! And after I hear you, they are as men." The other shook his great head like a silver mane, and laughed.
"My dear young man," he replied, "they're remarkably like you and me." After a pause, he added soberly:-- "Images?
Yes, you're right, sir.