ere was one of those frightful pauses which sometimes occurred
even in the cheerful concourse of the Wallencampers, casting a depressing
influence over all hearts, Grandma Keeler by a series of covert pokes and
nudges, would signify to Grandpa that now was the appointed moment for
him to arise and let his light shine.

And Grandpa Keeler was not a timid man, but since the event of his
clarification, he had shown a stronger dislike than ever to being
pestered, and was abnormally quick to detect and resist any advances of
that kind. So his movements on these occasions were marked by an angry
deliberation, though the old sea-captain never failed in the end, to
arise and "hand in his testimony."

His remarks were (originally) clear cut and terse.

"There's no need o' my gittin' up. You all know how I stand" (an
admonitory nudge from Grandma)--"What's the matter now, ma?" I could hear
the old man swear, mentally, but he went on with the amendment--"or try
to. I'm afeered that even the best on us, at some time or nuther, have
been up to some devil"--(sly, but awfully emphatic nudge from Grandma)
"ahem! we're all born under a cuss!" persisted Grandpa, with irate
satisfaction. "I've steered through a good many oceans," he continued,
more softly, "but thar' ain't none so--misty--as this--a--" (portentous
nudge from Grandma,) "as this pesky ocean of Life! We've got to keep a
sharp look-out" (another nudge from Grandma), "ahem, steer clear of the
rocks," (persistent nudges from Grandma), "ahem! ahem! trust in God
Almighty!" admitted Grandpa with telling force, and sat down.

As for Grandma, she was herself always prompt and faithful in the
discharge of duty, however trying the circumstances. She was no
hypocrite, this dear old soul! She could not have feigned sentiments
which she did not feel, yet it was invariably the case that, as she rose
in meeting, her usually cheerful face became in the highest degree
tearful and lugubrious. The thought of so many precious souls drifting
toward destruction filled her tender heart with woe. She besought them
in the gentlest and most persuasive terms to "turn to Jesus." She dwelt
long upon His love, standing always with hands reverently clasped before
her, and eyes downcast with awe.

I used to long to hear her speak. The sound of that low, tender monotone
was in itself inexpressibly soothing. But Grandma's tongue had its mild
edge, as well.

Once, when she was speaking, a number of the