SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 185 | Next

Sinclair, Upton, 1878-1968

"They Call Me Carpenter"


There was Everett, who had now washed the blood off his face, but
had not been able to put back his lost teeth, nor to heal the
swollen mass that had once been his upper lip and nose. And there
was Korwsky, who was now able to sit up and smile feebly, and two
other men, whose names I did not learn, nursing battered faces.
Carpenter prayed over them all, and they became more cheerful, and
eager to talk about the adventure, each telling over what had
happened to him. I noted that Everett, in spite of what must have
been intense pain, was still faithfully taking down every word the
prophet uttered.
It had been known that Carpenter was to honor this house with his
presence, and the family were all dressed in their best, and had got
together a supper, in spite of hard times and strikes. We had
sandwiches and iced tea and a slice of pie for each of us, and I was
interested to observe that the prophet, tired as he was, liked to
laugh and chat over his food, exactly like any uninspired human
being. He never failed to get the children around him and tell them
stories, and hear their bright laughter.


Pages:
173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193 194 195 196 197