The saintWord文档下载推荐.docx
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The saintWord文档下载推荐.docx
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What?
saidmyschoolmaster,anIrishmanwhohadeyeslikebrokenglassandasniffofirritabilityinthebristlesofhisnose."
What!
Doyouhavetheimpudencetotellmethatifyoufelloffthetopfloorofthisbuildingandsmashedyourheadin,youwouldsayyouhadn'
tfallenandwerenotinjured?
Iwasasmallboyandveryafraidofeverybody,butnotwhenitwasaquestionofmyreligion.IwasusedtothekindofconundrumtheIrishmanhadset.Itwasuselesstoargue,thoughourreligionhadalreadydevelopedaninterestingcasuistry.
Iwouldsayso,"
Irepliedwithcoldnessandsomevanity."
Andmyheadwouldnotbesmashed."
Youwouldnotsayso,"
answeredtheIrishman."
Youwouldnotsayso."
Hiseyessparkledwithpurepleasure."
You'
dbedead."
Theboyslaughed,buttheylookedatmewithadmiration.
Then--Idonotknowhoworwhy--Ibegantoseeadifficulty.WithoutwarningandasifIhadgoneintomybedroomatnightandhadfoundagrossapeseatedinmybedandthereafterfollowingmeaboutwithhisgruntsandhisfleasandalook,relentlessandancient,scoredonhisbrownface,Iwasfacedwiththeproblemwhichprowlsatthecentreofallreligiousfaith.Iwasfacedbythedifficultyoftheoriginofevil.Evilwasanillusion,weweretaught.Butevenillusionshaveanorigin.ThePurifiersdeniedthis.
Iconsultedmyuncle.Tradewasbadatthetimeandthismadehisfaithabrupt.HefrownedasIspoke.
Whendidyoubrushyourcoatlast?
hesaid."
regettingslovenlyaboutyourappearance.Ifyouspentmoretimestudyingbooks"
--thatistosay,thePurificationliterature--"
andlesswithyourhandsinyourpocketsandplayingaboutwithboatsontheriver,youwouldn'
tbelettingErrorin."
Alldogmashavetheirjargon;
myuncleasabusinessmanlovedthetradetermsofthePurification."
Don'
tletErrorin,"
wasafavoriteone.ThewholepointaboutthePurification,hesaid,wasthatitwasscientificandthereforeexact;
inconsequenceitwassheerweaknesstoadmitdiscussion.Indeed,betrayal.Heunpinchedhispince-nez,stirredhisteaandindicatedImustsubmitorchangethesubject.Preferablythelatter.Isaw,tomyalarm,thatmyargumentshaddefeatedmyuncle.Faithanddoubtpulledlikestringsroundmythroat.
Youdon'
tmeantosayyoudon'
tbelievethatwhatourLordsaidwastrue?
myauntaskednervously,followingmeoutoftheroom."
Youruncledoes,dear."
Icouldnotanswer.Iwentoutofthehouseanddownthemainstreettotheriverwherethepuntswerestucklikeinsectsinthesummeryflashofthereach.Lifewasadream,Ithought;
no,anightmare,fortheapewasbesideme.
Iwasstillinthisstate,halfsulkingandhalfexalted,whenMr.HubertTimberlakecametothetown.HewasoneoftheimportantpeoplefromtheheadquartersofourChurchandhehadcometogiveanaddressonthePurificationattheCoinExchange.Postersannouncingthiswereeverywhere.Mr.TimberlakewastospendSundayafternoonwithus.Itwasunbelievablethatamansoeminentwouldactuallysitinourdiningroom,useourknivesandforks,andeatourfood.Everyimperfectioninourhomeandourcharacterswouldjumpoutathim.TheTruthhadbeenrevealedtomanwithscientificaccuracy--anaccuracywecouldalltestbyexperiment--andthefuturecourseofhumandevelopmentonearthwaslaiddown,finally.AndhereinMr.Timberlakewasamanwhohadnotmerelyperformedmanymiracles--even,itwassaidwithproperreserve,havingtwiceraisedthedead--butwhohadactuallybeentoToronto,ourheadquarters,wherethisgreatandrevolutionaryrevelationhadfirstbeengiven.
Thisismynephew,"
myunclesaid,introducingme."
Heliveswithus.Hethinkshethinks,Mr.Timberlake,butItellhimheonlythinkshedoes.Ha,ha."
Myunclewasahumorousmanwhenhewaswiththegreat."
He'
salwaysontheriver,"
myunclecontinued."
Itellhimhe'
sgotwateronthebrain.I'
vebeentellingMr.Timberlakeaboutyou,myboy."
Ahandassoftasthebestqualitychamoisleathertookmine.Isawawideuprightmaninadouble-breastednavybluesuit.Hehadapinksquareheadwithverysmallearsandoneofthosetorpid,enameledsmileswhichweresaidbyourenemiestobetoocommoninoursect.
Why,isn'
tthatjustfine?
saidMr.Timberlakewho,owingtohiscontactswithToronto,spokewithanAmericanaccent."
Whatsaywetellyouruncleit'
sfunnyhethinkshe'
sfunny."
TheeyesofMr.Timberlakeweredirectandcolorless.Hehadthelookofaretiredmerchantcaptainwhohadbecomedecontaminatedfromtheseaandhadreformedandmademoney.Hisdefenseofmehadmademehisatonce.Mydoubtsvanished.WhateverMr.TimberlakebelievedmustbetrueandasIlistenedtohimatlunch,Ithoughttherecouldbenofinerlifethanhis.
IexpectMr.Timberlake'
stiredafterhisaddress,"
saidmyaunt.
Tired?
exclaimedmyuncle,brilliantwithindignation."
HowcanMr.Timberlakebetired?
Don'
tletErrorin!
Forinourfaith,themerelyinconvenientwasjustasillusoryasagreatcatastrophewouldhavebeen,ifyouwishedtobestrict,andMr.Timberlake'
spresencemadeusverystrict.
Inoticedthenthat,aftertheirbroadsmiles,Mr.Timberlake'
slipshadthehabitofsettingintoalongdepressedsarcasticcurve.
Iguess,"
hedrawled,"
IguesstheAlmightymusthavebeentiredsometimes,foritsaysHerelaxedontheseventhday.Say,doyouknowwhatI'
dliketodothisafternoon,"
hesaid,turningtome."
Whileyouruncleandauntaresleepingoffthismeal,let'
syouandmegoontheriverandgetwateronthebrain.I'
llshowyouhowtopunt."
Mr.Timberlake,Isawtomydisappointment,wasouttoshowheunderstoodtheyoung.Isawhewasplanninga"
quiettalk"
withmeaboutmyproblems.
TherearetoomanypeopleontheriveronSundays,"
saidmyuncleuneasily.
Oh,Ilikeacrowd,"
saidMr.Timberlake,givingmyuncleatoughlook:
"
Thisisthedayofrest,youknow."
HehadhadmyunclegobblingupeverybitofgossipfromthesacredcityofTorontoallthemorning.
MyuncleandauntwereincredulousthatamanlikeMr.TimberlakeshouldgooutamongtheblazersandgramophonesoftheriveronaSundayafternoon.Inanyothermemberofourchurch,theywouldhavethoughtthissinful.
Waal,whatsay?
saidMr.Timberlake.Icouldonlymurmur.
That'
sfixed,"
saidMr.Timberlake.Andoncamethesmileassimple,vividandunanswerableasthesmileonanadvertisement."
Isn'
Mr.Timberlakewentupstairstowashhishands.Myunclewasdeeplyoffendedandshocked,buthecouldsaynothing.Heunpinchedhisglasses.
Averywonderfulman,"
Sohuman,"
heapologized.
Myboy,"
myunclesaid."
Thisisgoingtobeanexperienceforyou.HubertTimberlakewasmakingathousandayearintheinsurancebusinesstenyearsago.Thenheheardofthepurification.Hethreweverythingup,justlikethat.Hegaveuphisjobandtookupthework.Itwasastruggle,hetoldmesohimselfthismorning.Many'
sthetime,'
hesaidtomethismorning,whenIwonderedwheremynextmealwascomingfrom.'
Butthewaywasshown.HecamedownfromWorcestertoLondonandintwoyearshewasmakingfifteenhundredayearoutofhispractice."
TohealthesickbyprayeraccordingtothetenetsoftheChurchoftheLastPurificationwasMr.Timberlake'
sprofession.
Myuncleloweredhiseyes.Withhisglassesoff,thelidsweresmallanduneasy.Heloweredhisvoicetoo.
Ihavetoldhimaboutyourlittletrouble,"
myunclesaidquietly,withemotion.Iwasburnedwithshame.Myunclelookedupandstuckouthischinconfidently.
Hejust
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