says Sugar-scoop, "can't you stop a moment, and sow a
morsel of seed on this barren rock. This is a precious sheep."

"Lamb, if you please," says I, quickly.

"No," says she, as smooth as oil, but no doubt boiling over with inward
spite, "I have eyes, and can see. Sheep is the word. She is a precious
sheep that, perchance, has once been in the fold, but is wandering far
away from the straight and narrow path."

"A backslider," says he, eying my face over his spectacles.

"Hardened," says she.

"Take her to the anxious-seat. Brother Blank is just the man for her
case. You've heard of Brother Blank, just from the West, and burning
with zeal. Heard of the way he converted a blacksmith out there--a
great, stout, burly, unregenerated fellow. Why, compared to him, this
poor, sinful creature is just nothing. That was a mighty work. What, you
never heard of it? Well, I was there, and heard all about it on the
spot.

"You see, Brother Blank, who belongs to the Methodist wing of this
camp-meeting, was sent out by the conference to a sparse Western
district, where the meeting-houses were a good way apart, and there was
any amount of horseback riding to be done. On the cross-roads, near one
of the stations, there was a blacksmith shop, where a great, two-fisted,
tough old sinner was blowing up red-hot coals into red-hot flames,
morning and night, which ought to have reminded him of the eternal fires
which threatened him, but only kindled his wicked soul into fierce
rebellion against God.

"Now this fellow had an awful spite against the ministers, and never let
a new one pass his shop, without going out with his leather apron on,
and a hammer in his hand, to scare the pious soul half to death with
abuse, if nothing worse. When Brother Blank came on the district, he had
to ride by the four corners like the rest; but he was a brave soldier of
the Cross, and rode a first-rate horse, besides being a tall, powerful
man in body as well as in spirit. I rather think he had heard of the
blacksmith, but that made no difference to him, he neither rode faster
nor slower when he came in sight of the shop, but looked straight ahead,
and trusted in the Lord.

"The moment Brother Blank came in sight, that miserable heathen brought
his hammer down on the anvil with a crash, flung it across the shop, and
went out with his fists clinched, his great bony chest bare, and his
eyes blazing like sin.

"'Hallo!' says he, standing right in the mi