Of an Ethical Discussion, Which the Reader is Advised to Skip

Therefore while youth yet abides, while the sun yet shines,--ride,
Barnabas, ride!

Now as he went, Barnabas presently espied a leafy by-lane, and
across this lane a fence had been erected,--a high fence, but with a
fair "take-off" and consequently, a most inviting fence. At this,
forthwith, Barnabas rode, steadied Four-legs in his stride, touched
him with the spur, and cleared it with a foot to spare. Then, all at
once, he drew rein and paced over the dewy grass to where, beneath
the hedge, was a solitary man who knelt before a fire of twigs
fanning it to a blaze with his wide-eaved hat.

He was a slender man, and something stooping of shoulder, and his
hair shone silver-white in the sunshine. Hearing Barnabas approach,
he looked up, rose to his feet, and so stood staring as one in doubt.
Therefore Barnabas uncovered his head and saluted him with grave
politeness.

"Sir," said he, reining in his great horse, "you have not forgotten
me, I hope?"

"No indeed, young sir," answered the Apostle of Peace, with a
dawning smile of welcome. "But you are dressed very differently from
what I remember. The quiet, country youth has become lost, and
transfigured into the dashing Corinthian. What a vast difference
clothes can make in one! And yet your face is the same, your
expression unchanged. London has not altered you yet, and I hope it
never may. No, sir, your face is not one to be forgotten,--indeed it
reminds me of other days."