He had no scruples about speaking the
truth. He never looked about him for the gentle, easy phrases, by
which to distinguish the conduct which he was compelled to condemn.
He knew not only that the truth must be spoken, and be spoken by
him, if by anybody, but that there is no language too strong--perhaps
none quite strong enough--for the utterance of the truth. But it must
not be supposed, that John Cross was in any respect an intolerant,
or sour man. He was no hypocrite, and did not, therefore, need to
clothe his features in the vinegar costume of that numerous class.
His limbs were put into no such rigid fetters as too often denote
the unnatural restraints which such persons have imposed upon their
inner minds. He could laugh and sing with the merriest, and though
he did not absolutely shake a leg himself, yet none rejoiced more
than he, when Ned Hinkley's fiddle summoned the village to this
primitive exercise.
"Now, Alfred Stevens," said he, the breakfast being over, "what
say'st thou to a visit with me among my people. Some of them know
thee already; they will all be rejoiced to see thee.
Pages:
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150