Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - Broby Fair
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
Below is the raw OCR text
from the above scanned image.
Do you see an error? Proofread the page now!
Här nedan syns maskintolkade texten från faksimilbilden ovan.
Ser du något fel? Korrekturläs sidan nu!
This page has been proofread at least once.
(diff)
(history)
Denna sida har korrekturlästs minst en gång.
(skillnad)
(historik)
these last weeks tell me where he lived and what
he did?”
So those in the room began to bearwitness about
him to his wife, who had misunderstood and
hardened her heart against him. They used the old
language of the Bible—for the men who spoke had
never read any other book—and in symbolic words
taken from the good Book of Job and turns of
phrases dating back from patriarchal days, they told
her about God’s pilgrim, about him who went about
helping the people.
Time passed before they could tell her all they
knew. While the twilight and evening fell, they stood
there, and one after another, stepping forward,
recounted his good works before his wife—his wife,
who had not wished to hear his name mentioned.
There were those who related how he had found
them on beds of sickness and had nursed them.
There were wild fighters there whom he had tamed.
There were troubled souls whom he had helped,
drunkards whom he had forced into sobriety. One
and all who had been in unbearable trouble had sent
for the pilgrim of God, and he had always helped
them—at least, he had always awakened hope and
trust.
All the evening the old Bible language echoed
in the sick-room, and out in the yards the groups
stood waiting for the end. They knew what was
taking place indoors, and what was being spoken at
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
