Book Excerpt Copyright © 2011 by Thomas Fletcher Booher Chapter 1 The tavern was old- it smelled of manure and smoke, grime and dirt salted the stone floor, and the dim light revealed walls stained with ale. A man was sitting on the ground against the corner of the wall furthest from the bar. He had one leg fully stretched out in front of him; he bent his other knee up near his face as he hunched forward, the sole of that shoe planted firmly into the dusty floor. He wore a dark cloak with the hood over his head and held a mug of ale in one hand, resting that arm on top of his bent knee. His weight was shifted towards his other hand which braced against the floor, supporting him. He sat there motionless, eyes fixed on the golden liquid in front of his face. The hooded man was familiar with Old Mason’s Tavern, too familiar, and many who frequented the tavern were too familiar with him. At times he would drink himself to a fit of rage, cursing and spitting at others wh
Thoughts on the Reformed faith, preparation for ministry, and doing all to the glory of God.