ere is another
prayer-for-rain story that he enjoys telling: "Dr. Allyne, of Duxbury,
prayed for rain, at church. In the afternoon the boys carried
umbrellas. 'Why?' 'Because you prayed for rain.' 'Pooh! boys! we
always pray for rain: it's customary.'"

At West Point he asked a lieutenant if they had morning prayers at
college. "We have _reveille_ beat, which is the same thing."

He tells with relish the story of a German who went to hire a horse
and chaise at a stable in Cambridge. "Shall I put in a buffalo?"
inquired the livery-man. "My God! no," cried the astonished German,
"put in a horse."

Emerson, I am sure, takes pleasure in relating a characteristic story
of Dr. Ripley and a thunder-shower: "One August afternoon, when I was
in the hayfield helping him with his man to rake up his hay, I well
remember his pleading, almost reproachful looks at the sky when the
thunder gust was coming up to spoil the hay. He raked very fast, then
looked at the clouds and said, 'We are in the Lord's hands, mind your
rake, George! we are in the Lord's hands,' and seemed to say, 'You
know me, the field is mine--Dr. Ripley's--thine own servant.'"

The stories Emerson delighted in were all rich in this quiet humor. I
heard of one he used to tell about a man who, when he went to his club
at night, often lingered too long over his cups, and came home
befuddled in the small hours, and was frequently hauled over the coals
by his wife. One night he again came home late, and was greeted with
the usual upbraiding in the morning. "It was not late," he said, "it
was only one o'clock." "It was much later than that," said the wife.
"It was one o'clock," repeated the man; "I heard it strike one three
or four times!"

Another good Emersonian story, though I do not know that he ever heard
it, is that of an old woman who had a farm in Indiana near the
Michigan line. The line was resurveyed, and the authorities set her
farm in Michigan. The old lady protested--she said it was all she
could do to stand the winters of Indiana, she could never stand those
of Michigan!

Cannot one see a twinkle in Emerson's eye when he quotes his wife as
saying that "it is wicked to go to church on Sunday"? Emerson's son
records that his father hated to be made to laugh, as he could not
command his face well. Hence he evidently notes with approval another
remark of his wife's: "A human being should beware how he laughs, for
then he shows all his faults." What he th