"Well, well! You don't say so!"

Distinctly, Mr. Wrenn felt that he was one of the gentlemen who,
in Kipling, stand at steamer rails exchanging observations on
strange lands. He uttered, cosmopolitanly:

"Gee! Look at that sunset. Ain't that grand!"

"Holy smoke! it sure is. I don't see how anybody could believe
in religion after looking at that."

Shocked and confused at such a theory, yet excited at finding
that Morton apparently had thoughts, Mr. Wrenn piped:
"Honestly, I don't see that at _all_. I don't see how anybody
could disbelieve anything after a sunset like that. Makes me
believe all sorts of thing--gets me going--I imagine I'm all
sorts of places--on the Nile and so on."

"Sure! That's just it. Everything's so peaceful and natural.
Just _is_. Gives the imagination enough to do, even by itself,
without having to have religion."

"Well," reflected Mr. Wrenn, "I don't hardly ever go to church.
I don't believe much in all them highbrow sermons that don't
come down to brass tacks--ain't got nothing to do with real
folks. But just the same, I love to go up to St. Patrick's
Cathedral. Why, I get real _thrilled_--I hope you won't think
I'm trying to get high-browed, Mr. Morton."

"Why, no. Cer'nly not. I understand. Gwan."