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 Well, the poor little creeter lay and pondered over what could have caused the failure of his plans. And he finally made up his mind that his sacrifice wuzn't costly enough.

He loved the book the best of anything he owned, but the B. B. had told him that he must offer up what he loved best of anything in the world. And he remembered, too, in the story of Abraham it wuz a livin' sacrifice. Why hadn't he thought of it? Why, it must be his mother, of course. For, by that mystery of love born in the deep silence and perils of maternity, Jack loved his mother the best of all, and Tamer loved him (in her way).

Well, from that time Tamer Ann wuz doomed in Jack's eyes, set apart as a costly oblation to be offered up on the altar of sacrifice, and he begun to watch her so mysterious like, and kinder prowl round her in such a strange way that they all noticed it. He went to Sabbath school agin in the meantime, and wuz agin fed on the sound, hard food that would almost have cracked the teeth of a adult, but which poor little Jack wuz expected to chew on and digest (poor little creeter!)

And agin the subject wuz Faith, and agin the story of Abraham wuz brung up, and agin they wuz admonished and adjured to sacrifice what they loved the best of all, if they would be rewarded, and see the lamb of sacrifice, snow white and glorious, appear at their right hand.

Jack's eyes grew bigger and bigger, and his plans seemed nearer fulfilment. He wanted to do right and he wanted the lamb. He thought he could make a pen for it back of the woodshed. But, above all, the fervor of a martyr had been waked up in his ardent young soul.