and passed through the gate a strong hand was laid on his shoulder, and his palm was pressing the palm of his beloved son. The old carpet-bag fell from his hands.
"Freddie Brent, it ain't you?"
"It's I, Uncle 'Liph, and no one else. And I'm so glad to see you that I don't know what to do. Give me that bag."
They started away, the old man chattering like a happy child. He could not keep from feasting his eyes on the young man's face and form.
"Well, Freddie, you jest don't look like yoreself. You 're— you're—"
"I'm a man, Uncle 'Liph."
"I allus knowed you'd be, my boy. I allus knowed you'd be. But yore aunt Hester told me to ask you ef— ef you 'd dropped all yore religion. She's mighty disturbed about yore dancin'."
Brent laughed aloud in pure joy.
"I knowed you had n't," the old man chuckled.
"Lost it all? Uncle 'Liph, why, I've just come to know what religion is. It's to get bigger and broader and kinder, and to live and to love and be happy, so that people around you will be happy."
