“Now, my respective hearers-ah, they’s a right smart sight of defference-ah atwext them air two oxen-ah, jest like they is atwext defferent men-ah.  Fer-ah” [here the speaker grew earnest, and sawed the air, from this to the close, in a most frightful way], “fer-ah, you see-ah, when I go out-ah in the mornin’-ah to yoke-ah up-ah them air steers-ah, and I says-ah, ‘Wo, Berry-ah! Wo, Berry-ah! WO, BERRY-AH’, why Berry-ah jest stands stock still-ah and don’t hardly breathe-ah while I put on the yoke-ah, and put in the bow-ah, and put in the key-ah, fer, my brethering-ah and sistering-ah, the ox knoweth his owner-ah, and the ass-ah his master’s crib-ah.  Hal-le-lu-ger-ah!

“But-ah, my hearers-ah, but-ah when I stand at t’other eend of the yoke-ah, and say, ’Come, Buck-ah! Come, Buck-ah! COME, BUCK-AH!  COME, BUCK-AH!’ why what do you think-ah?  Buck-ah, that ornery ole Buck-ah, ‘stid of comin’ right along-ah and puttin’ his neck under-ah, acts jest like some men-ah what is fools-ah.  Buck-ah jest kinder sorter stands off-ah, and kinder sorter puts his head down-ah this ’ere way-ah, and kinder looks mad-ah, and says, Boo-oo-OO-OO-ah!”

Alas!  Hartsook found no spiritual edification there, and he was in no mood to be amused.  And so, while the sermon drew on through two dreary hours, he forgot the preacher in noticing a bright green lizard which, having taken up its winter quarters behind the tin candlestick that hung just back of the preacher’s head, had been deceived by the genial warmth coming from the great box-stove, and now ran out two or three feet from his shelter, looking down upon the red-nosed preacher in a most confidential and amusing manner.  Sometimes he would retreat behind the candlestick, which was not twelve inches from the preacher’s head, and then rush out again.  At each reappearance Betsey Short would stuff her handkerchief into her mouth and shake in a most distressing way.  Shocky wondered what the lizard was winking at the preacher about.  And Miss Martha thought that it reminded her of a lizard that she see at the East, the time she was to Bosting, in a jar of alcohol in the Natural History Rooms.  The Squire was not disappointed in his anticipation that Mr. Bosaw would attack his denomination with some fury.  In fact, the old preacher outdid himself in his violent indignation at “these people that follow Campbell-ah, that thinks-ah that obejience-ah will save ’em-ah and that belongs-ah to temp’rince societies-ah and Sunday-schools-ah, and them air things-ah, that’s not ortherized in the Bible-ah, but comes of the devil-ah, and takes folks as belongs to ’em to hell-ah.”

As they came out the door Ralph rallied enough to remark:  “He did attack your people, Squire.”

“Oh, yes,” said the Squire.  “Didn’t you see the Sarpent inspirin’ him?”

But the long, long hours were ended and Ralph got on the clay-bank mare and rode up alongside the stile whence Miss Martha mounted.  And as he went away with a heavy heart, he overheard Pete Jones call out to somebody: