Arthur, Tom, and East were together one night, and read the story of Naaman coming to Elisha to be cured of his leprosy.  When the chapter was finished, Tom shut his Bible with a slap.

“I can’t stand that fellow Naaman,” said he, “after what he’d seen and felt, going back and bowing himself down in the house of Rimmon, because his effeminate scoundrel of a master did it.  I wonder Elisha took the trouble to heal him.  How he must have despised him!”

“Yes; there you go off as usual, with a shell on your head,” struck in East, who always took the opposite side to Tom, half from love of argument, half from conviction.  “How do you know he didn’t think better of it?  How do you know his master was a scoundrel?  His letter don’t look like it, and the book don’t say so.”

“I don’t care,” rejoined Tom; “why did Naaman talk about bowing down, then, if he didn’t mean to do it?  He wasn’t likely to get more in earnest when he got back to court, and away from the prophet.”

“Well, but, Tom,” said Arthur, “look what Elisha says to him—­’Go in peace.’  He wouldn’t have said that if Naaman had been in the wrong.”

“I don’t see that that means more than saying, ’You’re not the man I took you for.’”

“No, no; that won’t do at all,” said East.  “Read the words fairly, and take men as you find them.  I like Naaman, and think he was a very fine fellow.”

“I don’t,” said Tom positively.

“Well, I think East is right,” said Arthur; “I can’t see but what it’s right to do the best you can, though it mayn’t be the best absolutely.  Every man isn’t born to be a martyr.”

“Of course, of course,” said East; “but he’s on one of his pet hobbies.—­How often have I told you, Tom, that you must drive a nail where it’ll go.”

“And how often have I told you,” rejoined Tom, “that it’ll always go where you want, if you only stick to it and hit hard enough.  I hate half-measures and compromises.”

“Yes, he’s a whole-hog man, is Tom.  Must have the whole animal-hair and teeth, claws and tail,” laughed East.  “Sooner have no bread any day than half the loaf.”

“I don’t know;” said Arthur—­“it’s rather puzzling; but ain’t most right things got by proper compromises—­I mean where the principle isn’t given up?”

“That’s just the point,” said Tom; “I don’t object to a compromise, where you don’t give up your principle.”

“Not you,” said East laughingly.—­“I know him of old, Arthur, and you’ll find him out some day.  There isn’t such a reasonable fellow in the world, to hear him talk.  He never wants anything but what’s right and fair; only when you come to settle what’s right and fair, it’s everything that he wants, and nothing that you want.  And that’s his idea of a compromise.  Give me the Brown compromise when I’m on his side.”