cauls, and their round tires like the moon, the chains, and the
bracelets, and the mufflers, the bonnets, and the ornaments of the
legs, and the headbands, and the tablets, and the earrings, and nose
jewels, the changeable suits of apparel, and the mantles, and the
wimples, and the crisping pins, the glasses, and the fine linen, and
the hoods, and the veils. And it shall come to pass that instead of
sweet smell there shall be stink; and instead of a girdle a rent;
and instead of well set hair, baldness; and instead of a stomacher a
girding of sackcloth; and burning instead of beauty.'"

From the point of view of literature this might be great stuff; but
on the corner of Broadway and Fifth Street at the crowded hours it
was unusual, to say the least. My companion was entering into the
spirit of it in a most alarming way; he was half chanting, his voice
rising, his face lighting up. "'Thy men shall fall by the sword, and
thy mighty in the war. And her gates shall lament and mourn; and she
being desolate shall sit upon the ground.'"

"Be careful!" I whispered. "People will hear you!"

"But why should they not?" He turned on me a look of surprise. "The
people hear me gladly." And he added: "The common people."

Here was an aspect of my adventure which had not occurred to me
before. "My God!" I thought. "If he takes to preaching on street
corners!" I realized in a flash--it was exactly what he would be up
to! A panic seized me; I couldn't stand that; I'd have to cut and
run!

I began to speak quickly. "We must get across this street while we