r baskets there which were used for the collection--old but
rather pretty. I selected the best one. Fortunately I had in my grip a
neat little "housewife" which contained a pair of scissors, a huge
thimble, needles, thread, a tiny little pin-cushion, an emery bag,
buttons, etc. I am, like most ex-sailors, something of a needleman
myself. I emptied the contents into the collection basket and garnished
the dull little affair with the bright ribbon ties ripped off the
"housewife" and went back to the house.

To the boy I gave my penknife which happened to be nearly new, and to
the girl the church basket with the sewing things for a work-basket. The
joy of those children was one of the finest things I have ever
witnessed. The face of the little girl was positively filled with awe as
she lifted from the basket, one by one, the pretty and useful articles
the "housewife" had supplied and when I added the small box of candy
that my children had provided me, they looked at me with feelings of
reverence, as a visible incarnation of Santa Claus. They were the
cheapest and most effective Christmas presents it was ever my pleasure
to bestow. I hope to be forgiven for putting the church furniture to
such a secular use.

Another Christmas day I had a funeral. There was no snow, no rain. The
day was warm. The woman who died had been the wife of one of the largest
farmers in the diocese. He actually owned a continuous body of several
thousands of acres of fine land, much of it under cultivation. She had
been a fruitful mother and five stalwart sons, all married, and several
daughters likewise, with numerous grandchildren represented her
contribution to the world's population. They were the people of the most
consideration in the little community in which they lived. We had the
services in the morning in the Methodist church, which was big enough to
hold about six hundred people. As it was a holiday, it was filled to the
very doors. One of my farmer friends remarked as we stood on the front
steps watching the crowd assembling:

"My, doc, all of them wagons gatherin' here makes it seem more like
circus day than a funeral."

I had been asked to preach a sermon, which I essayed to do. The
confusion was terrific. In order to be present themselves the mothers in
Israel had been obliged to bring their children, and the most domestic
of attentions were being bestowed upon them freely. They cried and
wailed and expostulated with their parent