“Jesus Christ.”

* * * * *

“Upon my word!” said Reginald some weeks later, as he came upon John sitting astride a cobbler’s bench busily mending a pair of shoes, while Nan looked on admiringly.  “Do you learn a new trade every month?”

John laughed quietly.  “I took up this one because there are so many repairs always needed on the harness, and your father thinks all talent should be utilized.”

There was a quizzical look about his mouth as he spoke.  Reginald caught the look and answered hotly.

“The governor ought to be ashamed of himself!  Why don’t you strike, John?”

“Why should I?  Knowledge is power, Rege.”

“Knowledge of shoemaking!” said Reginald contemptuously.  “It won’t add to your strength much, John.”

“Never can tell,” said John sententiously.  “You remember that lame fellow saved a battle for us by knowing how to shoe the general’s horse.”

“Next thing you’ll be going in for a blacksmith’s diploma!”

“I’m thinking of it,” said John coolly.  “That fellow at the Forks has no more sense than a hen.  He pared so much off Neptune’s hoof last week that he has been limping ever since.  I had to take him this morning and have the shoes removed.”

“I wish you’d do some shirking, John, like the rest of us.”

“Jesus Christ never shirked, Rege.”

“Pshaw!  You’re so ridiculous!” and Reginald walked discontentedly away.

“Here, John, John, I say,” he called, when the time came for him to return to College, “go catch and saddle Sultan for me.  You’re so fond of work, you might as well have two masters.  Be quick now, for I’m in the mischief of a hurry.”

John’s face flushed.  This boy was younger than himself, and his father had been Mr. Hawthorne’s friend.

“Do you hear what I say, John?” demanded Reginald.  “You’re only here as a servant any way, and I’ll be master some day, so you might as well learn to obey me now.”

John’s brow cleared, while the words echoed in his heart with a glad refrain,—­

“A servant of Jesus Christ,” and “The Lord’s servant must not strive, but be gentle towards all ... forbearing.”  After all, life was a matter between himself and the Lord Jesus.  What could Reginald’s taunts affect him now?

“All right,” he said quietly, and started for the field.

“I declare!” muttered Reginald, as he watched the tall, lithe form cross the field with springing step, “you might as well try to make the fellow mad now, as to storm Gibraltar!  What has come to him?”

“Here you are, Sir Reginald,” said John good-humoredly, as he led the freshly groomed horse to the riding-block.

Reginald’s voice choked.  “Shake hands, John,” he said huskily.  “I am a brute!  There must be something in this new fad of yours after all.  If you had spoken to me as I did to you just now, I should have knocked you down.”