o knock at the door once more and declare to his friend
that he deemed him no Christian in taking such a stand and that true
religion commanded otherwise, even though he suspected the worst. The
man was injured and penniless. He even went so far as to quote the
parable of the good Samaritan who passed down by way of Jericho and
rescued him who had fallen among thieves. The argument had long
continued into the night and rain before the old patriarch finally waved
them both away.

"Don't you quote Scripture to me," he finally shouted defiantly, still
holding the light and flourishing it in an oratorical sweep. "I know my
Bible. There's nothing in it requiring me to shield liars and drunkards,
not a bit of it," and once more he went in and closed the door.

Nevertheless the youth was housed and fed at his expense and no charge
of any kind made against him, although many believed, as did Mr. White,
that he was guilty of theft, whereas others of the opposing political
camp believed not. However, considerable opposition, based on old Mr.
White's lack of humanity in this instance, was generated by this
argument, and for years he was taunted with it although he always
maintained that he was justified and that the Lord did not require any
such service of him.

The crowning quality of nearly all of his mercies, as one may easily
see, was their humor. Even he was not unaware, in retrospect, of the
figure he made at times, and would smilingly tell, under provocation, of
his peculiar attitude on one occasion or another. Partially from
himself, from those who saw it, and the judge presiding in the case, was
the following characteristic anecdote gathered.

In the same community with him at one time lived a certain man by the
name of Moore, who in his day had been an expert tobacco picker, but who
later had come by an injury to his hand and so turned cobbler, and a
rather helpless, although not hopeless, one at that. Mr. White had known
this man from boyhood up, and had been a witness at various times to the
many changes in his fortunes, from the time, for instance, when he had
earned as much as several dollars a day--good pay in that region--to the
hour when he took a cobbler's kit upon his back and began to eke out a
bare livelihood for his old age by traveling about the countryside
mending shoes. At the time under consideration, this ex-tobacco picker
had degenerated into so humble a thing as Uncle Bobby Moore, a poor,
half-reme