THE HOUSE OF PRAYER -- CONTENTS CHAF. PAGE 1. THE LITTLE CHAPEL IN
TIIE WOOD . . I 11. THE PROCESSION . I9 111. CONCERNING LITANIES .
S . 32 IV. INCENSE . . 43 V. THE SAVAGES . . 53 VI. PATTERNS . . .
. . 64 VII. THE CENSER OUTSIDE AND I N . . . 76 VIII. JOYOUS GARD .
83 IX. A KINGS SON . . I03 X. CONCERNING INTERCESSION . . . I 1 0
XI. THE CATACOMBS . . . . I18 XII. A CALL TO PRAYER . . . S I44
XIII. ORNAMENTS AND SYMBOLS. I55 XIV. A PRAYEK-MEETING . . 163 XV.
THE ILLUMINATED PRAYER-BOOK . . 182 XVI. THE PRAYER PICTURES . .
201, XV11. CONCERNING TklE VISION OF PERFECTION . 21 7 XVIII. THE
HOLY MAN. . 229 XIX. OF GIVING THANKS . 247 XX. IN THE CATHEDRAL .
v19 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE I AM THE VERGER . 13 YOU MUST YOU
MUST . 59 LIGHTED TALL TAPERS . 95 WRIGGLED OUT OF THEIR CLUTCHES .
. 167 SUPPOSE YOU TRY THIS WAY . . . . 189 DONT YOU WANT THIS . r,
243 THE HOUSE OF PRAYER CHAPTER I THE LITTLE CHAPEL IN THE WOOD AND
dont forget to say your prayers, whispered Mother, as she gave
Timothy a last hug and unwound his tightly-clinging little arms
from around her neck. Oh said Timothy, in a tone of amazement and
despair. Oh But Mother was already in the carriage, waving and
nodding and smiling, with a Now-I-expect-you-to-be-good expression
in her eyes, that compelled an answering nod and wave and smile.
The carriage disappeared around the grassy dip of the hill, and the
little boy waited gloomily for it to come out on the twist of road
at the bottom. When the wheels flashed and Mothers handkerchief
fluttered, he 2 THE HOUSE OF PRAYER conscientiously tried to
flutter his own, but it was very damp. Grandfather offered his too
late, the carriage had vanished. Before you know it, well
bestanding here waiting for her to come back again, said
Grandfather. You have no idea how fast the weeks can fly. Then he
patted Timothy on the head and went into the house. After five or
six slow minutes there was a distant, rattley, rumbley sound the
carriage was crossing the long bridge, up the valley. From where
the little boy stood he could catch a gleam, here and there, of the
river, flowing level with the meadows. Timothy, said Grandfather,
looking out at the door, dont you want to come in and see the book
the Ambassador has sent me It is an old missal, with queer,
coloured pictures in it. But Timothy, with his back turned, only
shook his head. He would have shaken it harder had he known that a
missal is a book of prayers. Far away there was the sound of a
train whistle. The colour went out of Timothys face and left him
quite pathetically pale. Through the windless, still afternoon came
the faint puffing of the train as it ran into the station, hidden a
mile away. Presently, on the other side of the valley, a little
line of toy cars appeared, creeping around the edges of the
mountains. At one of the wiildows there was a white speck. The
little boy held up his moist handkerchief, motionIess, by two of
its corners, until the white speck had disappeared...
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