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The Voice of the People by Ellen Anderson Gholson Glasgow
page 83 of 433 (19%)
Nicholas nodded, and, crossing the weeds in the garden, gave her the
money from his pocket.

"They didn't say nothing 'bout wantin' more, I 'spose? Did you tell 'em
I was fattenin' them four pairs of ducks?"

Nicholas shook his head. No, he hadn't told them.

"Well, your pa wants you down in the peanut field. You'd better get a
drink of water first. You look powerful red."

An hour later, when work was over, he carried his book to the orchard
and flung himself down beneath the trees. The judge had given him a
biography of Jefferson, and he had learned his hero's life with lips and
heart. The day that it was finished he put the volume under his arm and
went to the rector's house.

"I want to join the church," he said bluntly.

The rector, a kindly, middle-aged man, with a love for children, turned
to him in half-puzzled, half-sympathetic inquiry.

"You are young, my child," he replied, "to be so zealous a Christian."

"'Tain't that, sir," said the boy slowly. "I don't set much store by
that. But I've got to go to heaven--because I can't see Thomas Jefferson
no other way."

The rector did not smile. He was wiser than his generation, for he left
the great man's own religion to himself and God. He said merely:
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