“I don’t know what you call onbeliever.  I believe in God and Christ, and keep Sunday and the Fourth of July; but I don’t believe in all of Brother Goshorn’s nonsense about wearing veils and artificials.”

“Well,” said Brother Hall, “would you endeavor to induce your wife to dress in a manner unbecoming a Methodist?”

[Illustration:  “SAY THEM WORDS OVER AGAIN.”]

“I wouldn’t fer the world.  If I git the article I want, I don’t keer what it’s tied up in, calico or bombazine.”

“Couldn’t you join the Methodist Church yourself, and keep your wife company?” It was Brother Goshorn who spoke.

“Couldn’t I?  I suppose I could ef I didn’t think no more of religion than some other folks.  I could jine the Methodist Church, and have everybody say I jined to git my wife.  That may be serving God; but I can’t see how.  And then how long would you keep me?  The very fust time I fired off my blunderbuss in class-meetin’, and you heerd the buckshot and the squirrel-shot and the slugs and all sorts of things a-rattlin’ around, you’d say I was makin’ fun of the Gospel.  I ’low they a’n’t no Methodist in me.  I was cut out cur’us, you know, and made up crooked.”

“Is there anything against Mr. Harrison, Brother Goshorn?” asked the elder.

“He’s a New Light,” said Mr. Goshorn, in a tone that signified his belief that to be a New Light was enough.

“Is he honest and steady?”

“Never heard anything against him as a moralist.”

“Well, then, it’s my opinion that any member of your class would do better to marry a good, faithful, honest New Light than to marry a hickory Methodist.”

Jonas got up like one demented, and ran out of the door and across the street.  In a moment he came back, bringing Cynthy Ann in triumph.

“Now, soy them words over again,” he said to the presiding elder.

“Sister Cynthy Ann,” said the presiding elder, “you really love Brother Harrison?”

“I—­I don’t know whether it’s right to set our sinful hearts on the things of this perishin’ world.  But I think more of him, I’m afeard, than I had ort to.  He’s got as good a heart as I ever seed.  But Brother Goshorn thought I hadn’t orter marry him, seein’ he is a onbeliever.”

“But I a’n’t,” said Jonas; “I believe in the Bible, and in everything in it, and in Cynthy Ann and her good Methodist religion besides.”

“I think you can give up all your scruples and marry Mr. Harrison, and love him and be happy,” said the presiding elder.  “Don’t be afraid to be happy, my sister.  You’ll be happy in good company in heaven, and you’d just as well get used to it here.”

“I told you I’d find a man that had salt enough to keep his religion sweet.  And, Father Williams, you’ve got to marry us, whenever Cynthy Ann’s ready,” said Jonas with enthusiasm.

And for a moment the look of overstrained scrupulosity on Cynthy Ann’s face relaxed and a strange look of happiness came into her eyes.