ad every day--a great large one, printed in London. Mother
was English, and herself a convert to the church of Rome, though father
was Dutch."

"Why, I never knowed that, Knicks. That was a great misfortune. These
priests, by the arts of Antichrist, will come round simple folks so,
that they often succeed in leading them down to destruction."

"Well, sir," said Knicks, "I can tell you I never met a Christian but my
mother; and I cannot believe or listen to you say she went to
destruction, but to heaven, if there is such a place. And again: if I
were to embrace any religion, it would be the Roman Catholic religion;
for it is the only _honest religion_ there is. Father often brought
Methodist and Presbyterian ministers to make mother give up her'n; but
it was no go. She always treated them civil; but they had the worst of
the argument, I can tell you. They brought their Bibles, and she her'n;
and then they would set to, and be at it, till at last they were obliged
to give up. The only difference between her Bible and theirs is, that
her'n contained some fourteen or fifteen books more than the Protestant
Bible. The end of it was, that father turned with mother, and had the
Irish priest O'Shane to attent him afore he died. Mother got us all
baptized too."

"Indeed!" carelessly ejaculated our official. "I must call and see that
Bible of yours some day."

This conversation--which happened a few days before the death of our
emigrant widow--between his neighbor "Knicks" and our official shows
what an _enlightened gentleman_ he was. Since his elevation to office,
he also got promotion to another situation, which, though not so
lucrative as that of poormaster, in the course of time, by proper
management, promised to come to something. In a certain school house in
his vicinity, where the faithful were too poor, too irreligious, or too
pernicious to hire a preacher, our official held forth every Sunday, and
several evenings on the week days, at prayer meetings, protracted
meetings, and other roaring exercises. And to do him credit, his nasal
accent and piercing shrill voice made him a capital substitute for the
_hired_ regular Methodist preacher. He could be heard for nearly a mile
distant calling on the _brethern_ and _sistern_ to come to heaven.

"O, let us come!" he would cry; "we were made and intended for heaven. I
see the shining seats, I see the crystal fountains, I see the Lord
sitting on the throne. Come, sisters, com