“We have left undone those things which we ought to have done, and we have done those things which we ought not to have done.”

The man dropped into a pew with a sigh of relief.

“Thank goodness,” he said, “I’ve found my crowd at last.”

HIX—­“I understand your Church has sent the minister to Michigan for a month.”

DIX—­“Yes, that’s right.”

HIX—­“For a vacation, I suppose?”

DIX—­“Yes; the congregation decided that we were entitled to one.”

CHURCH ATTENDANCE

“What’s the idea of free pews?”

“Well, it gives everyone a chance to stay away from church at a minimum expense.”

Why They Went to Church

Mrs. Clogg went to find out where the missionary meeting would be held.

Willie Jones went because his mother made him.

His sister went because she had her hair up for the first time.

Sadie Williams went to flirt with the Scott boy.

The Scott boy went to flirt with Sadie Williams.

James B. Jenkins went because he had done so for fourteen years.

The sexton went because he had to pump the organ.

One of the girl ushers in a Flatbush theater had a problem offered her the other evening.  She was showing two women to their seats.

“Is the show this evening fit for church women to see?” asked one of the pillaresses of a Flatbush congregation.

“I—­I don’t know,” responded the girl.  Then she brightened.  “You see,” she said, “I don’t have no time to go to church.”

Mr. Dickson, a colored barber in a large New England town, was shaving one of his customers, a respectable citizen, one morning, when a conversation occurred between them respecting Mr. Dickson’s former connection with a colored church in that place:—­

“I believe you are connected with the church in Elm Street, are you not, Mr. Dickson?” said his customer.

“No, sah, not at all.”

“What! are you not a member of the African Church?”

“Not this year, sah.”

“Why did you leave their communion, Mr. Dickson, if I may be permitted to ask?”

“Well, I’ll tell you sah,” said Mr. Dickson, stropping a concave razor on the palm of his hand, “it war just like dis.  I jined the church in good fait; I give ten dollars toward de stated gospill de fus’ year, and de church people call me ‘Brudder Dickson’; the second year my business not so good, and I gib only five dollars.  Dat year the people call me ‘Mr. Dickson.’  Dis razor hurt you, sah?”

“No, the razor goes tolerably well.”

“Well, sah, the third year I feel berry poor; had sickness in my family; and I didn’t gib noffin’ for preachin’.  Well, sah, arter dat dey call me ’dat old nigger Dickson’—­and I left ’em.”

CHURCH DISCIPLINE