red frock, with a white one
over it.

I whispered and asked Cousin E. E. what his name was; she answered
back--"Acolyte," which was a name I never heard before.

After a while the congregation began to move out of the pews, a few at a
time, and crowd up to the minister. Then they knelt down before him, and
he gave them bread and wine close to the altar, instead of having it
handed about as they do in our Presbyterian meeting-houses. Cousin E. E.
went up with the rest, and wanted me to go with her, but I could not
bring myself to partake of the Lord's Supper from a man in his
shirt-sleeves, and with a silk cape on; so I shook my head and sat
still, watching the altar.

After they had done coming up to him, the minister knelt down and prayed
awhile; then he got up, and the boy in red shirt and white frock handed
him a black hat, with four corners, which he put on his head; then he
took something from the altar and walked through a side door, still
wearing his double-cocked hat. The boy followed him out, and then a man
came round among the pews with a plate, in which Cousin E. E. dropped a
gold piece with a ringing noise that made people look round. I followed
up with five cents, and was astonished to see how little ring it had
after the gold; nobody looked round at me.

It was broad daylight when we came out of that little meeting-house, and
not quite so cold as it had been; but still I was glad to keep my muff
up to my face, and we walked toward home like a house afire.

"Well, how did you like the service?" says Cousin E. E., as we shivered
along--"impressive, isn't it?"

"Very," says I; "only do tell me what it was all about. This getting up
and sitting down and bowing at nothing is more than I can understand."

"Oh," says she, "I ought to remember you came from a Congregational part
of the country."

"And Methodist--to say nothing of Baptists and Quakers," says I.

"Yes, I mean all that," says she; "but the church, as a church, is but
little understood among you."

"Well, as you came from the same place, you ought to know," says I,
rebuking her city airs in my most austere manner.

"Well, yes," says she; "but one doesn't hear much of the true church so
far in the mountains. Even you seemed puzzled by a good many things this
morning."

"Well, yes," says I--"the four-cornered cocked hat, for instance."

"The four-cornered cocked hat!" says she, stopping short on the
sidewalk. "What do you mean? That was