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coming for you to be screwed down in your coffin.”
“Abram Bowen,” Silas urged, “do you listen to reason now, there's a nice, godly little boy bach.”
“Silas Penlon,” answered Abram, “I say unto you, sinner, that you will go down on your knees and thank the Big Man that I came to Penlon. Dear me, there’s dirty the place is, man. I will plough your land and sow seeds, and the land will be yellow with corn.”
“In the name of the Big Man,” cried Silas, “you shall not come to Penlon,” and he was going to hit Abram with his stick.
Abram stayed Silas’s arm, saying: “Where is that stick with you?” When he had taken the stick away from him, he said: “Wicked you are, man. Pray to the Big Man for a little grace.”
Silas moaned, for he knew that Abram Bowen was a man of nothing, and his tears
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