h from the point of view of
bringing the ladies of the congregation together--well, the less said
about that the better. In any event, parts of Dumfries Corners were
cooler the following summer than they had ever been before.

And then, in the natural sequence of events, the next year came. The
hospital, and the inn, and the various other institutions of the city
indorsed by prominent names, but void of resources, as usual, left the
church so poor that something had to be done to repair the cellar of
Saint George's by outside effort, water leaking in from the street. The
matter was discussed, and the amount needed was settled upon. This time
Saint George's needed ninety dollars. It didn't really need so much, but
it was thought well to ask for more than was needed, "because then, you
know, you're more likely to get it."

The book-cake-and-cream sale of the year before had been so successful
that everybody said: "By all means let us have another literary
afternoon at Mr. Peters's."

"All right!" said Peters, calmly, when the project was suggested.
"Certainly! Of course! Have anything you please at my house. Not that I
am running a casino, but that I really enjoy turning my house inside out
in a good cause once in a while," he added, with a smile which those
about him believed to be sincere. "Only," said he, "kindly make me
master of ceremonies on this occasion."

"Certainly!" replied the vestry. "If this thing is to be in your house
you ought to have everything to say about it."

"I ask for control," said Peters, "not because I am fond of power, but
because experience has taught me that somebody should control affairs of
this sort."

"Certainly," was the reply again, and Peters was made a committee of
one, with power to run the sale in his own way, and the vestry settled
down in that calm and contented frame of mind which goes with the
consciousness of solvency.

Three months elapsed, and nothing was done. No cards were issued from
the home of Peters announcing a sale of any kind, cake, cream, or books,
and the literary afternoon seemed to have sunk into oblivion. The
chairman of the Committee on Supplies, however, having gone into the
cellar one morning to inspect the coal reserve, found himself obliged
either to wade knee deep in water or to neglect his duty--and, of
course, being a sensible man, he chose the latter course. He knew that
in impecunious churches willing candidates for vestry honors were rare,
an