s lively songs, cheerful, hopeful,
militant, and bracing, fell with a pleasing sound upon the ear of the
believer of that epoch.) The love of God had, indeed, entered Philip's
soul, but in some mysterious way had been ossified after it got there.
He had intensely black hair, dark skin, and a liver that disposed him
constitutionally to an ardent belief in the necessity of hell for most
of his neighbors, and the hope of spending his own glorious immortality
in a small, properly restricted, and prudently managed heaven. He was
eloquent at prayer-meeting and Patty's only objection to him there was
in his disposition to allude to himself as a "rebel worm," with frequent
references to his "vile body." Otherwise, and when not engaged in
theological discussion, Patty liked Philip very much. His own father,
although an orthodox member of the fold in good and regular standing,
had "doctored" Phil conscientiously for his liver from his youth up,
hoping in time to incite in him a sunnier view of life, for the doctor
was somewhat skilled in adapting his remedies to spiritual maladies. Jed
Morrill had always said that when old Mrs. Buxton, the champion convert
of Jacob Cochrane, was at her worst,--keeping her whole family awake
nights by her hysterical fears for their future,--Dr. Perry had given
her a twelfth of a grain of tartar emetic, five times a day until she
had entire mental relief and her anxiety concerning the salvation of her
husband and children was set completely at rest.

The good doctor noted with secret pleasure his son's growing fondness
for the society of his prime favorite, Miss Patience Baxter. "He'll
begin by trying to save her soul," he thought; "Phil always begins that
way, but when Patty gets him in hand he'll remember the existence of
his heart, an organ he has never taken into consideration. A love affair
with a pretty girl, good but not too pious, will help Phil considerable,
however it turns out."

There is no doubt but that Phil was taking his chances and that under
Patty's tutelage he was growing mellower. As for Patty, she was only
amusing herself, and frisking, like a young lamb, in pastures where she
had never strayed before. Her fancy flew from Mark to Phil and from Phil
back to Mark again, for at the moment she was just a vessel of emotion,
ready to empty herself on she knew not what. Temperamentally, she would
take advantage of currents rather than steer at any time, and it would
be the strongest