s seemed to want tradition for a garment.

Bart's words were very simple. "When I was fastened on that log and saw
all this, I saw that Jesus knew it all, and that that was what all His
life and dying meant, and that the people that follow Him are learning
to know that that was what it meant; it takes them a long, long time,
and we can't understand it yet, but as the world goes on it will come
clearer. Everybody that knows anything about Him says all this in
church, only they don't quite understand it. There's many churches, Ann,
where the people all get up and say out loud, 'He descended into hell.'
I don't know much, for I've only read the Bible for one year; but if you
think of all that Jesus did and all that happened to Him, you will see
what I mean. People have made little of it by saying it was a miracle
and happened just once, but He knew better. He said that God had been
doing it always, and that He did nothing but what He saw God doing, and
that when men saw Him they would know that God was like that always.
Haven't I just been telling you that God bears our sins and carries our
sorrows with us until we become blessed because we are holy? We can
always choose to be that, but He will never _make_ us choose. Jesus
never _made_ anybody do anything; and, Ann, if there are things in the
Bible that we don't understand to mean that, it is because they are a
parable, and a parable, Ann, is putting something people can't
understand in pictures that they can look at and look at, and always
learn something every time they look, till at last they understand what
is meant. People have always learned just as much from the Bible as they
can take in, and made mistakes about the rest; but it is God's character
to make us learn even by mistakes."

Ann's interest began to waver. They were silent awhile, and then,
"Bart, do you know where you are?" she asked.

"I don't seem to care much where I am, as long as you are here." There
was a touch of shyness in the tone of the last words that made all that
he had said before human to her.

"If it hadn't been that I thought it was father, I'd have taken you
home." She told him how she had brought him. "If it had been a boat,"
she said, "I'd have found out who it was before we got here, but the
canoe was too narrow."

CHAPTER XVI.

Ann dosed where she sat. Toyner slept again. At length they were both
aware that the level light of the sun was in the room.

Ann sat up, looki