“No, I thank you.  I must at least avoid adding to my debt.”

“I hope what you do have, you’ll have of me, sir.  I don’t mind waiting a goodish bit for my money, but what cuts me to the heart is to see any one as owes me money a goin’ over the way, as if ’e ’adn’t ‘a’ found my meat good enough to serve his turn, an’ that was why he do it.  That does rile me!”

“Take my word for it, Mr. Jones—­all the meat we have we shall have of you.  But we must be careful.  You see I am not quite so—­so—­”

He stopped with a sickly smile.

“Look ye here, Mr. Drake!” broke in the butcher:  “you parsons ain’t proper brought up.  You ain’t learned to take care of yourselves.  Now us tradespeople, we’re learned from the first to look arter number one, and not on no account to forget which is number one.  But you parsons, now,—­you’ll excuse me, sir; I don’t mean no offense; you ain’t brought up to ‘t, an’ it ain’t to be expected of you—­but it’s a great neglect in your eddication, sir; an’ the consekence is as how us as knows better ’as to take care on you as don’t know no better.  I can’t say I think much o’ them ’senters:  they don’t stick by their own; but you’re a honest man, sir, if ever there was a honest man as was again’ the church, an’ ask you for that money, I never will, acause I know when you can pay, it’s pay you will.  Keep your mind easy, sir:  I shan’t come to grief for lack o’ what you owe me!  Only don’t you go a starving of yourself, Mr. Drake.  I don’t hold with that nohow.  Have a bit o’ meat when you want it, an’ don’t think over it twice.  There!”

The minister was just able to thank his new friend and no more.  He held out his hand to him, forgetful of the grease that had so often driven him from the pavement to the street.  The butcher gave it a squeeze that nearly shot it out of his lubricated grasp, and they parted, both better men for the interview.

When Mr. Drake reached home, he met his daughter coming out to find him.  He took her hand, led her into the house and up to his study, and closed the door.

“Dorothy,” he said, “it is sweet to be humbled.  The Spirit can bring water from the rock, and grace from a hard heart.  I mean mine, not the butcher’s.  He has behaved to me as I don’t see how any but a Christian could, and that although his principles are scarcely those of one who had given up all for the truth.  He is like the son in the parable who said, I go not, but went; while I, much I fear me, am like the other who said, I go, sir, but went not.  Alas!  I have always found it hard to be grateful; there is something in it unpalatable to the old Adam; but from the bottom of my heart I thank Mr. Jones, and I will pray God for him ere I open a book.  Dorothy, I begin to doubt our way of church-membership.  It may make the good better; but if a bad one gets in, it certainly makes him worse.  I begin to think too, that every minister ought to be independent