Ministers are good things to be , but I 'm afraid I ca n't be a minister . '' `` Not a pulpit minister . There 's different kinds of ministers , and each must talk to men in his own tongue if he 's going to do 'em any real good , '' said old Abel meditatively . `` YOUR tongue is music . Strange that your grandfather ca n't see that for himself , and him such a broad-minded man ! He 's the only minister I ever had much use for . He 's God 's own if ever a man was . And he loves you -- yes , sir , he loves you like the apple of his eye . '' `` And I love him , '' said Felix warmly . `` I love him so much that I 'll even try to be a minister for his sake , though I do n't want to be . '' `` What do you want to be ? '' `` A great violinist , '' answered the child , his ivory-hued face suddenly warming into living rose . `` I want to play to thousands -- and see their eyes look as yours do when I play . Sometimes your eyes frighten me , but oh , it 's a splendid fright ! If I had father 's violin I could do better . I remember that he once said it had a soul that was doing purgatory for its sins when it had lived on earth . I do n't know what he meant , but it did seem to me that HIS violin was alive . He taught me to play on it as soon as I was big enough to hold it . '' `` Did you love your father ? '' asked old Abel , with a keen look .
Again Felix crimsoned ; but he looked straightly and steadily XXXXX his old friend 's face .
If for into like of on that though to with