Last eve, someone passed beside a blacksmith's door, and heard the anvil ring the vesper chime.
Then looking in, he saw upon the floor old hammers, worn with beating years of time.
"How many anvils have you had," he asked, "to wear and batter all these hammers so?"
"Just one," said the blacksmith, and then added with twinkling eye, "The anvil wears the hammers out, you know."
Just so, the anvil of God's Word, for ages skeptic blows have beat upon.
Yet though the noise of falling blows was heard, the anvil is unharmed-the hammer's gone!