erved to be shot; he was pretty ignorant of river ways, but he
wanted to learn about them; he hadn't hurt their feelings, for he minded
his own business, saying not a word about their good times, even if he
wouldn't dance himself. They could do no better than let him know that
they hadn't any hard feelings against him, even if he was a parson, for
he didn't let on that they were sinners. Anyway, they wanted to hear him
hit it up!

"I came down here to find a son whose mother was worrited about him,"
Rasba began at the beginning. "I 'lowed likely if I could find Jock it'd
please his mammy, an' perhaps make her a little happier. And Jock 'lowed
he'd better go back, and stand trial, even if it was a hanging matter.

"You see, I didn't expect you'd get to learn very much from me, and I
haven't been disappointed. I'm the one that's learning, and when I think
what you've done for me, and when I see what Old Mississip' does,
friendlying for all of us, tripping us along----"

They understood. He looked at the boat, at them, and through the
wide-open windows at the sun-rippled water.

"Now for religion. Seems like I'm impudent, telling you kindly souls
about being good to one another, having no hard, mean feelings against
anybody, and living like you ought to live. We're all sinners! Time and
again hit's ag'in the grain to do what's right, and if we taste a taste
of white liquor, or if hit's stained with burnt sugar to make hit red,
why----"

"Sho!" someone grinned. "Parson Rasba knows!"

The preacher joined the laughter.

"Yas, suh!" he admitted, more gravely, "I know. I 'lowed, one time, that
I'd git to know this yeah happiness that comes of liquor, an' I shore
took one awful gulp. Three nights an' three days I neveh slept a wink,
an' me settin' theh by the fireplace, waitin' to be lit up an'
jubulutin', but hit didn't come. I've be'n happier, jes' a-settin' an'
lookin' at that old riveh, hearin' the wild geese flocking by!

"That old riveh--Lawse! If the Mississippi brings you fish and game; if
it gives you sheltered eddies to anchor in, and good banks or sandbars
to tie against; if this great river out here does all that for you, what
do you reckon the Father of that river, of all the world, of all the
skies would do, He being so much friendlier and powerfuller?

"Hit's easy to forget the good that's done to you. Lots an' lots of
times, I bet you've not even thought of the good you've had from the
river, from the s