asy as of their next door neighbor. But the young reverends expect
too much of a country parish, and break their hearts sometimes because
they can't make us tough old critters all over while you wait. Poor
things! I'm sorry for the average country parson, and a lot sorrier
for his wife."

"Well, don't you worry about me; I'm well and strong, and equal to
anything, I imagine. I don't believe in taking life too seriously;
it's bad for the nerves and digestion. It will be an entirely new
experience for me, and I'm sure I shall find the people interesting."

"Yes, but what if they aren't your kind? I suppose you might find
hippopotamuses interestin' for a while, but that's no reason you
should like to live with 'em. Anyway, don't mind what people say. They
aint got nothin' to think about, so they make up by talkin' about it,
especially when it happens to be a new parson. We've been havin' odds
and ends of parsons from the remnant counter now for six months or
more; and that's enough to kill any parish. I believe that if the
angel Gabriel should preach for us, half the congregation would object
to the cut of his wings, and the other half to the fit of his halo. We
call for all the virtues of heaven, and expect to get 'em for
seven-forty-nine."

"Well--I shall have to look to you and the Wardens to help me out," he
said. "You must help me run things, until I know the ropes."

"Oh! Bascom will run things for you, if you let him do the runnin',"
she replied, cracking her whip. "You'll need to get popular first with
him and his--then you'll have it easy."

Maxwell pondered these local words of wisdom, and recalled the
Bishop's warning that Bascom, the Senior Warden, had not made life
easy for his predecessors, and his superior's exhortation to firmness
and tact, to the end that he, Maxwell, should hold his own, while
taking his Senior Warden along with him. The Senior Warden was
evidently a power in the land.

They had driven about a mile and a half when the wagon turned off the
road, and drew up by a house standing some distance back from it;
getting down, Mrs. Burke exclaimed:

"Welcome to Thunder Cliff, Mr. Maxwell. Thunder Cliff's the name of
the place, you know. All the summer visitors in Durford have names for
their houses; so I thought I'd call my place Thunder Cliff, just to be
in the style."

Jonathan Jackson, who had kept a discreet silence during Hepsey's
pointers concerning his colleague, the Senior Warden,