He smiled through his half-shut eyes.

"Ah, Father, my own Father, it is so sweet to feel you, like the warm sunshine.

The Bibles and books cannot tell of you and all I feel you.

They are mixed with men's words; but you--" His muttering sank into inaudible confusion, till, opening his eyes wide, it struck him that the brown plain he looked at was the old home farm.

For half an hour they had been riding in it, and he had not known it.