For my part I can't see what she finds in them to love so; for
except to put a body to sleep I never could see the use they were
to any person yet."

"Books are of two kinds," said Brother Cross gravely. "They are
useful or hurtful. The useful kinds are good, the hurtful kinds
are bad. The Holy Bible is the first book, and the only book, as
I reckon it will be the book that'll live longest. The 'Life of
Whitefield' is a good book, and I can recommend the sermons of that
good man, Brother Peter Cummins, that preached when I was a lad,
all along through the back parts of North Carolina, into South
Carolina and Georgia. I can't say that he came as far back into
the west as these parts; but he was a most faithful shepherd. There
was a book of his sermons printed for the benefit of his widow and
children. He died, like that blessed man, John Rogers, that we see
in the primer-books, leaving a wife with eleven children and one
at the breast. His sermons are very precious reading. One of them
in particular, on the Grace of God, is a very falling of manna in
the wilderness. It freshens the soul, and throws light upon the
dark places in the wilderness. Ah! if only such books are printed,
what a precious world for poor souls it would be. But they print
a great many bad books now-a-days."

The natural love of mischief which prevailed in the bosom of Alfred
Stevens now prompted him to take part in the conversation at this
happy moment. The opportunity was a tempting one.

"The printers," said he, "are generally very bad men. They call
themselves devils, and take young lads and bring them up to their
business under that name!"