we folks should send all our money off
there, while our own folks are starving at home."

"Did you put anything into the box?" asked Lyman Drake.

"No, I didn't. When they shoved it into my face, I told 'em I'd left
all my money at home--and so I had."

"You're about right, Sam," said Bill Robinson. "But I did more than
you did. When the box was handed to me, I spoke right out, so that
everybody around me heard. I told the old deacon if he'd take up a
subscription to help the poor in our town, I'd put in something."

"What did he say to that?"

"Why--he said, 'Souls are of more consequence than bodies.' So I just
said back that I guessed he'd find it hard work to save a soul out of
a starving body. But you see that isn't the thing. They won't try to
save the souls, or the bodies either, of their own townfolks. Now when
Squire Truman came here to settle, they tried quick enough to save his
soul. Ye see his body was already salted down with ten thousand
dollars, so his soul was worth something to 'em. Why don't they try to
save poor old Israel Trask's soul, and his wife's too?"

"Wasn't there a committee of the church that visited old Israel last
month?" queried Drake.

"Yes--there was," answered Sam, giving his cigar an indignant shake;
"and what did they do? They went there--four on 'em--and found the
old folks suffering for want of food and clothing. They tried to make
the old man believe their religion was the only true one in the world,
but he would not. So they gave him three tracts and a little cheap
book, and then went away. That's what they did. Afore I'd give a cent
to such chaps to send off to feed their missionaries in Baugwang and
Slapflam Islands, I'd throw it into the fire."

"But these missionaries are honest people, and do some good," remarked
Peter Hobbs, who had not before spoken on the subject.

"Of course they do," responded Sam. "But wouldn't it look better of
'em to begin some of their charities at home? I judge of a man's order
by the way his own shop looks, and not by the way he may fuss around
on another man's premises. And just so with those philanthropists. I'd
rather see how much their religion does toward keeping the Gentiles of
their own town, than to go away off to the other end of the earth to
look for the fruits of their Christianity. Them's my sentiments."

"And mine too," uttered Walter Mason, who had just thrown away the
stump of one cigar, and was about lighting another. "J