orward as a severe judge, or hard
taskmaster, but as His Father.... Ah, here we are. May I read it?"

"Yes, I wish to hear it."

"'God is Father; He is our Father. To Him'--speaking of Jesus--'and to
us God is Father, and that means that we are in a deep and real sense
His children, and, being children, then brothers to each other; for if
God must be interpreted in terms of fatherhood, then man will never be
interpreted accurately until he is interpreted in the terms of
brotherhood.'" Mr. Osborn closed the book and laid his hand on Dale's
knee. "How does that strike you, Brother Dale?"

"It strikes me as beautifully worded--Brother Osborn."

"That's how I want you to think of Him. A Father's love. Nothing
strange nor new about it. Just what you used to be thinking as a boy,
coming home to Father."

"I can't remember my father," said Dale simply. "He died when I was a
baby, and mother married again. I only knew a stepfather."

"Then you'll know the real thing now, if you join us." Mr. Osborn
beamed cheerfully. "Understand, I don't press you. Why should I? The
pressure behind you is not of this earth; and if it's there, as I
think it is, you'll no more resist it than the iron bolt resists the
steam-ram. But what's steam and _horse_-power?" And he beamed all over
his face. "This is ten thousand _angel_-power to the square inch."

The rain began as Dale walked up the village street, in which no light
except that of the public lamps was now showing. It fell sharply as he
emerged into the open country, and then abruptly ceased. The odor of
dust that has been partially moistened rose from the roadway; some
dead leaves scurried in the ditch with a sound of small animals
running for shelter; and he felt a heavy, tepid air upon his face, as
if some large invisible person was breathing on him.

Then the heavens opened, and a flood of light came pouring down. The
thunder seemed simultaneous with the flash. It was a crashing roar
that literally shook the ground. It was as if, without prelude or
warning, every house in England had fallen, every gun fired, and every
powder-magazine blown up. Dale stood still, trying to steady himself
after the shock, and ascertaining that his eyes had not been blinded
nor the drums of his ears broken.

Then he walked on slowly, watching the storm. The lightning flooded
and forked, the thunder boomed and banged; and it seemed to Dale that
the whole world had been turned upside down. When one