e.
Then the Rev. Mr. Swin approached him, thoughtfully dipping his fingers
into a small earthern bowl of water as if he had just finished dining. I
was much affected: I could see nothing distinctly for my tears. My
handkerchief was at my face--most of it inside. I was observed to sob
spasmodically, and I am abashed to think how many sincere persons
mistakenly followed my example.

With some solemn words, the purport of which I did not quite make out,
except that they sounded like swearing, the minister stood before
Thomas, gave me a glance of intelligence and then with an innocent
expression of face, the recollection of which to this day fills me with
remorse, spilled, as if by accident, the entire contents of the bowl on
the head of my poor friend--that head into the hair of which I had
sifted a prodigal profusion of Seidlitz-powders!

I confess it, the effect was magical--anyone who was present would tell
you that. Tom's pow simmered--it seethed--it foamed yeastily, and
slavered like a mad dog! It steamed and hissed, with angry spurts and
flashes! In a second it had grown bigger than a small snowbank, and
whiter. It surged, and boiled, and walloped, and overflowed, and
sputtered--sent off feathery flakes like down from a shot swan! The
froth poured creaming over his face, and got into his eyes. It was the
most sinful shampooing of the season!

I cannot relate the commotion this produced, nor would I if I could. As
to Tom, he sprang to his feet and staggered out of the house, groping
his way between the pews, sputtering strangled profanity and gasping
like a stranded fish. The other candidates for baptism rose also,
shaking their pates as if to say, "No you don't, my hearty," and left
the house in a body. Amidst unbroken silence the minister reascended the
pulpit with the empty bowl in his hand, and was first to speak:

"Brethren and sisters," said he with calm, deliberate evenness of tone,
"I have held forth in this tabernacle for many more years than I have
got fingers and toes, and during that time I have known not guile, nor
anger, nor any uncharitableness. As to Henry Barber, who put up this job
on me, I judge him not lest I be judged. Let him take _that_ and sin no
more!"--and he flung the earthern bowl with so true an aim that it was
shattered against my skull. The rebuke was not undeserved, I confess,
and I trust I have profited by it.

THE RACE AT LEFT BOWER

"It's all very well fer you Britishe