In Journeyings Often. I9

e

one else! So I had my reward, you see. The picture I saw
in him is not to be forgotten. I suppose he was dressed. He
was covered from his neck to his knees with rags of many
colours, toned down with a rich brown of pervading dirt.
I saw no buttons—he was knotted together, like the old
woman whose coating of loathsome garments, in rags, had to

Bishop Ridley at Giatwangak,