ined a happy heart and a cheerful countenance; he made as little
of his poverty as some people do of their luxuries, and an ordinary
observer might have supposed he never had a sorrow, or felt a care.
The fact is he did not hoard his troubles as some persons do; he did
not like them well enough for that. They hung very loosely about him
at any time, and he shook them off as soon as he could; instead of
buttoning them up in his breast, and keeping them until they rankled,
festered, or turned sour, he loosened his bands, bared his bosom to the
first healthy breeze of joy that blew, and laughed the moment his
sorrows were gone.

"WATTER GRUEL."

He was one day walking several miles to a preaching appointment, in
company with another brother who was going to the same place. On the
way his friend's nose began to bleed, and they had to stop, though the
man's nose still kept on bleeding. Abe tried to stop it: he put a cold
stone to the man's neck, held his arms up over head, and resorted to a
variety of acknowledged remedies, but with very little effect. "What
mun I do, Abe?" said the man. The little Bishop thereupon proceeded to
give him his advice. "I'll tell the' what to do," said he; "thaa mun
strike at th' rooit" (root) "o' th' evil; thaa lives o'er high; thaa
should try watter gruel for six weeks, and thaa'd cure that nose,
that's haa I do." A burst of laughter from both hastened the cure, and
on they went again with the journey. There was in this quaint remark
of his just the slightest reference to the poor fare on which he had
many a time set out on a long journey and a hard day's work in the
cause of his Divine Master; often enough dear old Abe was like brave
Gideon of old, "faint, yet pursuing."

He used to say when he met people who carried their troubles in their
faces, "Yo' ha' no need to pull such lang miserable faces, raand 'um up
a bit! What! are yo' gotten on dark soid o' th' hedge? Yo' mun flit
into th' sunshine, there's plenty o' room." And what a blessing it
would be if people who nurse their sorrows would begin to count and
cherish their joys instead; the world, and especially the Church, would
be full of bright faces and happy hearts.

THE HALLELUJAH COAT.

There was a time when Little Abe was badly provided against the cold,
wet, inclement weather which he had to encounter in the work of the
Lord, and coming out of the chapels on winter nights exposed him to
many a dangerous chill.