"Ah! she is up-stairs, at her books, as usual. She does so love
them books, Brother Cross, I'm afraid it'll do harm to her health.
She cares for nothing half so well. Morning, noon, and night, all
the same, you find her poring over them; and even when she goes out
to ramble, she must have a book, and she wants no other company.
For my part I can't see what she finds in them to love so; for
except to put a body to sleep I never could see the use they were
to any person yet."
"Books are of two kinds," said Brother Cross gravely. "They are
useful or hurtful. The useful kinds are good, the hurtful kinds
are bad. The Holy Bible is the first book, and the only book, as
I reckon it will be the book that'll live longest. The 'Life of
Whitefield' is a good book, and I can recommend the sermons of that
good man, Brother Peter Cummins, that preached when I was a lad,
all along through the back parts of North Carolina, into South
Carolina and Georgia. I can't say that he came as far back into
the west as these parts; but he was a most faithful shepherd. There
was a book of his sermons printed for the benefit of his widow and
children.
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