ventured to "tackle" him in a religious argument. Bill,
after listening with a deference which was evidently a tribute of
respect to the Doctor's position rather than an acknowledgment of the
cogency of his reasoning, settled the question by an interrogatory:
"Dr. Hopkins, do you suppose I'm goin' to believe that when I die I'll
go up and sit on one of those clouds with my legs hangin' over?"

We infer from the above that his religious belief is somewhat vague.

Soon after the marriage of Charles, Bill's son, the heir apparent of
the Pratt estates, Bill was asked how Charles' wife was getting along,
whereupon he was pleased to remark that he believed she was "under
conviction." Since then the conviction has become a certainty, and
Bill is a grandfather. Commenting on the appearance of his grandchild,
he has been heard to say: "She's a pretty child. I say she looks like
Charles. Charles says she looks like me."

There are few scenes that abide longer in the student's recollection
than those in which Bill is the central figure. It not infrequently
happens that, when a number of lovers of fun are gathered around him
as he vigorously brandishes axe or saw, one of them, willing, for the
sake of drawing him out, to make a martyr of himself for the public
good, addresses him. On such occasions a conversation, something as
follows, occurs:

Student--"Bill, what do you think of the constitutionality of the
configuration, esthetically considered?"

No reply is elicited from Bill, but a scornful "Ottah," as he puts on
a new stick and continues his work.

Student, (not discouraged)--"Really, Bill, I should like your opinion
on that point."

Bill, (having finished his stick)--"You ain't no kind of a man. You
hain't got no elements, no justice of earth. When I see these young
men and the monument of liberty imported from Long Island for the
benefit of the rising generation, Ottah! Rolling Ottah!! Rang Dang! Du
Dah!!!"

Of course a rebuke so scathing and sudden as this, never fails to
annihilate its object. Being assured by the rapturous applause which
ever succeeds his efforts, that he has made a good hit, Bill suddenly
becomes as impenetrable as Gibraltar, and saws vigorously.

If, at a time like this, "the Professor," _alias_ "Niobe," having
snatched a few moments from his professional perambulations in search
of "_Coffee_," steps forward, signalizing his debut with the
interrogatory: "Do ye think I'm a common laborin'