"Well," says I, "you don't notice anything? If I branched out
amongst the elect looking like this, wouldn't I attract
considerable attention?--wouldn't I be a little conspicuous?"

"Well," he says, "I don't see anything the matter. What do you
lack?"

"Lack! Why, I lack my harp, and my wreath, and my halo, and my
hymn-book, and my palm branch--I lack everything that a body
naturally requires up here, my friend."

Puzzled? Peters, he was the worst puzzled man you ever saw.
Finally he says--

"Well, you seem to be a curiosity every way a body takes you. I
never heard of these things before."

I looked at the man awhile in solid astonishment; then I says--

"Now, I hope you don't take it as an offence, for I don't mean any,
but really, for a man that has been in the Kingdom as long as I
reckon you have, you do seem to know powerful little about its
customs."

"Its customs!" says he. "Heaven is a large place, good friend.
Large empires have many and diverse customs. Even small dominions
have, as you doubtless know by what you have seen of the matter on
a small scale in the Wart. How can you imagine I could ever learn
the varied customs of the countless kingdoms of heaven? It makes
my head ache to think of it. I know the customs that prevail in