"Well, Joe, I ben't a fool, if I ben't so religious as you be. You ben't a bad fellow, though you be a Methodist, and I ben't a fool, though I be Harry Cobb." "What do you mean, Harry? Do hold your tongue." "Well, I'll tell you what I mean first, and then I'll hold my tongue. I mean this--that nobody with two eyes, or one eye, for that matter, in his head, could help seeing the eyes you and Aggy make at each other, and why you don't port your helm and board her--I won't say it's more than I know, but I du say it to be more than I think be fair to the young woman." "Hold your tongue, Harry." "I said I would when I'd answered you as to what I meaned. So no more at present; but I'll be over with your clothes afore you're up in the morning." As Harry spoke he was busy gathering his tools. "They won't be in the way, will they, sir?" he said, as he heaped them together in the furthest corner of the tower. "Not in the least," I returned. "If I had my way, all the tools used in building the church should be carved on the posts and pillars of it, to indicate the sacredness of labour, and the worship of God that lies, not in building the church merely, but in every honest trade honestly pursued for the good of mankind and the need of the workman. For a necessity of God is laid upon every workman as well as on St. Paul. Only St. Paul saw it, and every workman doesn't, Harry." "Thank you, sir. I like that way of it. I almost think I could be a little bit religious after your way of it, sir." "Almost, Harry!" growled Joe--not unkindly. "Now, you hold your tongue, Joe," I said. "Leave Harry to me. You may take him, if you like, after I've done with him." Laughing merrily, but making no other reply than a hearty good-night, Harry strode away out of the church, and Joe and I went home together. When he had had his tea, I asked him to go out with me for a walk. The sun was shining aslant upon the downs from over the sea. We rose out of the shadowy hollow to the sunlit brow. I was a little in advance of Joe. Happening to turn, I saw the light full on his head and face, while the rest of his body had not yet emerged from the shadow. "Stop, Joe," I said. "I want to see you so for a moment." He stood--a little surprised. "You look just like a man rising from the dead, Joe," I said. "I don't know what you mean, sir," he returned. "I will describe yourself to you. Your head and face are full of sunlight, the rest of your body is still buried in the shadow. Look; I will stand where you are now; and you come here. You will soon see what I mean." We changed places. Joe stared for a moment. Then his face brightened. "I see what you mean, sir," he said. "I fancy you don't mean the resurrection of the body, but the resurrection of righteousness."