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Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander), 1862-1919

"The Hosts of the Air"

Invariably the salute was returned in pleasant fashion. His
nature was essentially friendly and therefore he bred friendliness in
others. Although he was in a hostile land he was continually meeting
people who seemed to have an instinctive wish to help him.
As he walked on he overtook a stout man of middle age dressed heavily
in brown who appeared to be a priest, and who turned upon him a benign
countenance.
"Why do you travel so fast for one on foot?" asked the man.
"Because I feel strong and my errand takes me far, Father."
"If it takes you far, my son, the less speed in the beginning the
greater at the end."
"True, Father," said John, slackening his pace, and glancing at the
shrewd face which was also both ruddy and kindly. "The Church can give
good advice in temporal as well as spiritual matters."
"Even so, my son," said the priest, who had noted John's frank
countenance, his width between the eyes. "One of my vocation cannot go
through life merely looking inward. Come, walk with me. The world is
mad, gone wholly mad, but let us try to be two sane beings in it for a
little while."
"Thanks, Father," said John. "I can wish no better company. I agree with
you that the world has gone mad. I have seen its madness at its height."
"And at such a time the Church, Protestant or Catholic, must do the best
it can.


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