The potatoes were all peeled before he finished the story of the fight, so that he laid down his paring knife and turned entirely to Stephen as they came to the climax. They had adventured down the terrible Valley of Death and were now in the hand-to-hand combat, cut! slash! forward! back! “Then Apollyon began to gather up close to Christian and wrestling with him, gave him a dreadful fall; and with that, Christian’s sword flew out of his hand!” He paused dramatically. Stephen’s wide eyes grew wider! His lips were parted. He did not seem to breathe, all his being suspended on his father’s words. It was plain he had forgotten where he was, or who. “Then said Apollyon, ‘_I am sure of thee now!_’” said Lester, and Stephen shivered. “But Christian reached out quick, quick and snatched up his sword and ran it deep into that horrible old Apollyon and made him stagger back to get his breath! And then Christian scrambled up on his feet and ran at the dragon, shouting! And with that Apollyon spread out his dragon wings and sped him away and Christian saw him no more.” Stephen drew a long breath. “Golly!” he said fervently. “Yes, I should say as much,” agreed his father, pushing his chair over to the stove and dropping the potatoes into the boiling water. How exciting it was, he thought, how absorbing, to see those first impressions of power and courage touch a new human soul. And when it was your own little boy.... To share with him one of the immortal fine things created by the human spirit! He sat still for a moment, remembering the book, soaking himself in its flavor and color, tasting some of the quaint, posy-like phrases, “Some things are of that nature as to make One’s fancy chuckle while his heart doth ache!” Harvey Bronson for instance. And, “Some people are never for religion until it walks with silver slippers in the sunshine.” Was that Mr. Prouty? Still musing, he wheeled himself into the dining-room and began to set the table for lunch. Through the clicking of the silver, Stephen could hear him say, “His daughter went through the Dark River, singing, but none could understand what she said ... none could understand what she said.” It sounded like a song to Stephen, although Father was only talking to himself. When he came out again into the kitchen and began to slice the bacon, he was saying in a loud, strong voice, “So he passed over, and all the trumpets sounded for him on the other side! All the trumpets sounded....” The words rang in Stephen’s ears. He said them over to himself in a murmur as he handled his top absently. “All the twumpets sounded. All the twumpets sounded on the other side.” After a time he asked, “Father, what’s a twumpet?” A question from Stephen!