Then this new beginner, with the air of a diplomatist, told all the details of this wonderful cure, without once mentioning the name of either person or place.  An innate sense of the human heart told her that “Jerusalem” and “Jesus” were both probably connected in the minds of these two with the Bible, and their appearance told her that they were likely to be skeptical as to the interest of Bible stories.  But, like all ignorant persons, there was a credulous side to their nature.  It is surprising what marvelous stories people are prepared to receive and credit, provided only that they do not come from the Bible, with a “Thus saith the Lord” to vouch for them.  Then, indeed, they are apt to become “unreasonable” and “improbable.”  Presently her boys volunteered some remarks and asked some questions.

“Jolly! that fellow must have felt good:  I guess he wanted to run all around the country and tell about it.  Where was this spring, and what was the man’s name that cured him?”

The other chimed in:  “Yes, and how did he do it?  That’s what I’m after.  And is he dead? ’cause I don’t hear of no such cures now-days.”

Then was Flossy tremulous of heart.  She had become eagerly interested in her story and her boys.  Would the charm that she had woven be broken the moment they knew the story’s origin?  But of course she must tell them, for what good else would the story do?

“He is dead,” she said, slowly, answering the last question first.  “That is, he is what you call dead.  But, of course, you know as well as I do that that doesn’t mean what it seems to; it means simply that he doesn’t live in the same place that he once did.  He went to heaven to live ever so many years ago.”

She waited to feel the effect of this announcement.  The boys were silent and grave.  They had evidently heard of heaven, and had some measure of respect for the name.  The new teacher did not know what to say next.  The boys helped her.  The younger one drew a heavy sigh.

“Well, all I’ve got to say is, I wish he was alive now,” he said, in a regretful tone, “’cause my mother has been sick longer than thirty-eight years; she has been sick about all her life, and she is real bad now, so she can’t walk at all.  I s’pose he could cure her if he was here.”

“I suppose he could cure her now.”  Flossy said this slowly, reverently, looking earnestly at the boy, hoping to convey to him a sense of her meaning.  He looked utterly puzzled.  Light began to dawn on the face of the older boy.

“She’s been tellin’ us one of them Bible stories,” he said, speaking not to Flossy, but to his companion, and assuming an injured air, as if a wrong had been done them.

Flossy spoke quickly: 

“Of course I have.  I thought you wanted to hear something that really happened, and not a made up story.”  This seemed to be an appeal to their dignity, and they eyed her reflectively.