Page:Famous stories from foreign countries.djvu/151

 happened. The road is bad. The old mare is so lean, too. But when Matti comes now it won’t do any good. Now everything’s gone. It’s all over. Even if the cows were not good for much, they gave a few drops for the children. They were sold for nothing, too. Who would pay for them when they were so lean? They didn’t bring enough to pay the pastor, let alone the costs of the auction.” Thus spoke the woman.

Yes, yes, the misfortune had come. Things had gone their way, and no one could say that a wrong had been done, for law is changeless and power is holy.

I had seen enough. I sought out my guide in the crowd, betook myself to my conveyance and again we set out. Traveling across the untenanted land that had just been cleared strange thoughts came to me, and we did not talk, my guide and I.

“What sort of man is the pastor? What do the villagers think of him?” at length I inquired of my guide.

“Oh, the pastor is a fine preacher. But he’s so mean and niggardly that he steals the very ashes from the hearths,” replied the young man indifferently, beginning to hum a song.

That day I reached the end of the journey. Here I tarried several days. Then again one Saturday I set out with my guide on the return. Sunday morning I was in the village. I put my horse up at a farm, and determined to go to church, since the opportunity presented itself. The church bells rang solemnly. They were summoning the people to listen to a message of love and peace.