You remember
the parable of the ninety-and-nine?"
"Who can forget it?" said the reverend doctor, tears springing to his
eyes.
"No one, my dear brother,--no one," replied the priest. "Well, my lost
sheep have all come back. The invisible Church has helped the visible,
and--"
"Is my Church, then, invisible?" asked Dr. Guide, with a quick relapse
into his old-time manner.
"My dear brother," exclaimed the priest, "which is the greater? Which
exists only for the other?"
"I beg your pardon," said Dr. Guide, his face thawing in an instant.
"Again I thank you from the depths of my heart," said the old priest,
"and--"
"Father Black," interrupted the pastor, "the more you thank me the
more uncomfortable I feel. Whatever credit is awarded, except to
Heaven, for the great and unexpected experiences which have been made
manifest at my church, belongs entirely to a man who, being the lowest
of the low, has set forth an example of perfect obedience."
"That poor cobbler? You are right, I verily believe, and I shall go at
once to pour out my heart to him."
"Let me go with you, Father--_Brother_, Black. I--" here Dr. Guide's
face broke into a confidential smile,--"I want to go to confession
myself, for the first time in my life, if you will allow the cobbler to
be my priest.
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