Now that he did face them they seemed more
terrible than they really were.
Lying wakeful on his bed that night, listening to the snoring of the
half-breeds on the floor, to the faint murmur of a wind that stirred the
drooping boughs of the spruce, he reviewed his enthusiasms and his
tenuous plans--and slipped so far into the slough of despond as to call
himself a misguided fool for rearing so fine a structure of dreams upon
so slender a foundation as this appointment to a mission in the outlying
places. He blamed the Board of Missions. Obviously that august circle of
middle-aged and worthy gentlemen were sadly ignorant of the North.
Whereupon, recognizing the trend of his thought, the Reverend Wesley
Thompson turned upon himself with a bitter accusation of self-seeking,
and besought earnestly the gift of an humble spirit from Above.
But the deadly pin-points of discontent and discouragement were still
pricking him when he fell asleep.
CHAPTER V
FURTHER ACQUAINTANCE
Mike Breyette took a last look over his shoulder as the current and the
thrust of two paddles carried the canoe around the first bend. Thompson
stood on the bank, watching them go.
"Bagosh, dat man hees gon' have dam toff time, Ah theenk," Breyette
voiced his conviction.
Pages:
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64