Shouts of “No!  No!” from the congregation.

“No, no,” pursued the preacher, “I wasn’t a-shirkin’ ner I wasn’t a-lazy, but the soul within me was a wo’kin’ wid the min’, an’ as we all gwine ter do some day befo’ long, early in de mornin’, I done fu’git this ol’ body.  My haid fall on my breas’, my eyes close, an’ I see visions of anothah day to come.  I see visions of a new Heaven an’ a new earth, when we shell all be clothed in white raimen’, an’ we shell play ha’ps of gol’, an’ walk de golden streets of the New Jerusalem!  That’s what been a runnin’ thoo my min’, w’en I set up in the pulpit an’ sleep under the Wo’d; but I want to ax you, was I wrong?  I want to ax you, was I sinnin’?  I want to p’int you right hyeah to the Wo’d, as it are read out in yo’ hyeahin’ ter-day, ’Ef he sleep, he shell do well.’”

The Rev. Elisha ended his sermon amid the smiles and nods and tears of his congregation.  No one had a harsh word for him now, and even Brother Dyer wiped his eyes and whispered to his next neighbor, “Dat man sholy did sleep to some pu’pose,” although he knew that the dictum was a deathblow to his own pastoral hopes.  The people thronged around the pastor as he descended from the pulpit, and held his hand as they had done of yore.  One old woman went out, still mumbling under her breath, “Sleep on, Ed’ards, sleep on.”

There were no more church meetings after that, and no tendency to dismiss the pastor.  On the contrary, they gave him a donation party next week, at which Sister Dicey helped him to receive his guests.

THE INGRATE

I

Mr. Leckler was a man of high principle.  Indeed, he himself had admitted it at times to Mrs. Leckler.  She was often called into counsel with him.  He was one of those large souled creatures with a hunger for unlimited advice, upon which he never acted.  Mrs. Leckler knew this, but like the good, patient little wife that she was, she went on paying her poor tribute of advice and admiration.  To-day her husband’s mind was particularly troubled,—­as usual, too, over a matter of principle.  Mrs. Leckler came at his call.

“Mrs. Leckler,” he said, “I am troubled in my mind.  I—­in fact, I am puzzled over a matter that involves either the maintaining or relinquishing of a principle.”

“Well, Mr. Leckler?” said his wife, interrogatively.

“If I had been a scheming, calculating Yankee, I should have been rich now; but all my life I have been too generous and confiding.  I have always let principle stand between me and my interests.”  Mr. Leckler took himself all too seriously to be conscious of his pun, and went on:  “Now this is a matter in which my duty and my principles seem to conflict.  It stands thus:  Josh has been doing a piece of plastering for Mr. Eckley over in Lexington, and from what he says, I think that city rascal has