Old Sheba had not cuffed her grandson to church every week in vain.

He had heard a great deal about white robes and palms of victory and "him that overcometh." By some twist of his simple little brain the term Reverend had come to mean all that to him, and much more.

It meant not only some one set apart in a priestly way, but some one who was just slipping down into the mysterious valley of the shadow, with the shining of the New Jerusalem upon his face.
As long as the cottage was in sight John Jay kept rolling his eyes backward as he trudged along in the dust; but Mars' Nat was the only one in view.

Twice he stumbled and almost spilled the eggs.

A little farther along he concluded that he was tired enough to rest a while.