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Show Jeffries, Section 3, Page 108 Now a pig, said Dorian to himself, is a small pachyderm. Challenging the sermon a week ago Dory had asked how that Man Upstairs, who knows if the sparrow falls, could bring Himself to drive distraught such emotional and intelligent creatures as pigs. "Under a cliff, by the waters of Galilee, the teeth of the beasts have recently been excavated. In the Holy land, Dorian, where all of what we call history and archeology only serves to confirm." Gathering wind, excited in the clear ozone air, he lectured near Dorian's ear. "Picture the great motion of it. The swine stirring, the devils again to be homeless, dizzying to the Evil One to lose these points of reference." "But as the pigs galloped to their deaths," Dory demanded, "well let me put it this way, what about praise Him all creatures here below, and wouldn't there have been in the confusion a calm, strong voice intimating at them Today shalt thou be with Me, and couldn't there be someplace like Iowa up there. . .?" But then there was that uproar off to their left, in the west quarter of the island. "Your friends, so driven--" the parson screamed against the smiting wind, "not so much a case of possession- you understand--as prepossession, prediliction-" |
