to show him that they also were "somebody." That seemed to be the
principle upon which they lived. The father and mother still belonged to
the Lutheran church. The three daughters had joined a Methodist
congregation because their "set" was there. The two boys attended no
church.

Henrik was disappointed. He saw plainly that here was no help for him.
All these were entrapped by the world. At first, Henrik said nothing
about his own religious faith, but after a time he spoke of the subject
to one of his girl cousins. She was not the least interested. He tried
another with the same result. Then, one day at the table, he told them
all plainly what he believed and what he was called. They were merely
surprised. "That's all right," said his cousin Jack who voiced the
universal opinion, "we live in a free country, you know, where one's
religion isn't called into question."

Henrik's other uncle lived in the city. He was a mechanic, having worked
for years in the railroad shops. Some months previous he had been
discharged, and since then he had operated a small "tinker" shop of his
own. Uncle Jens lived in a small rented house. Uncle Ole's visits to his
brother were far between. "Brother Jens is shiftless," Uncle Ole said.

Henrik was, however, made welcome in the humble home, and he soon found
the family a most interesting one. His uncle was a religious man,
having, as he put it, "got religion" some years ago at a Baptist
revival. He had joined that church and was an active member in it. The
wife and some of the children were devout believers. They indulged in
long family prayers and much scriptural reading. This branch of the
Bogstad family called the wealthy farmer and his children a "godless
lot."