‘Smith? 
and they had The Downfall. “ Five of us walked 
into the middle of the room and then all fell 
down. Oh, it was greatfun! And they couldn’t 
guess. No. But when we told them they said, 
“Why! ofcourse!’’’ Another book they repre- 
sented was Under Two Flags, coming into the 
room and waving two handkerchiefs over their 
head. 
He drifted back to books. The Bible was such 
beautiful language; about Queen Elizabeth’s 
time, you know. Like the Prayer Book. He 
knew a man who valued that in a book more 
than anything—the eloquence of it. He didn’t 
care what the subject was, or which side of an 
argument it took. All he cared about was its 
eloquence. . . . Then the curate told of a bishop 
he had known: “such an inspiring man!” 
Apparently humorous too. At any rate we were 
invited to laugh, and did therefore laugh, at the 
bishop’s comment on his own arm, swollen with 
blood-poisoning. For it reminded him, the 
bishop said, “* of nothing so much as an elephant’s 
leg. But the doétor, seeing it, pulled a face 
almost as long as a donkey’s.’”’ Oh, Bishop! 
Yet, being assured that he was in grave danger, 
his lordship didn’t feel afraid. He was a good 
man, and kindly, but could say stern things on 
occasion. In this he seemed to the curate to 
resemble our Lord, who was not always meek. 
47 
