ing off; we've all remained"--he might almost have said remained
seated--"all our lives, right about him."

"I will allude to that," said Mr. Holt. "I hope you have something else,
for I am afraid of running short of material: you see I am a stranger
here."

"Why, I hope there won't be any trouble about it," said Maria, in sudden
consternation. "I was a little afraid to give it out to so young a man
as you, and I thought some of giving the preference to Father Cobb, but
I did n't quite like to have it go out of the village, nor to deprive
you of the opportunity; and they all assured me that you was smart. But
if you 're feeling nervous, perhaps we 'd better have him still; he 's
always ready."

"Just as you like," said Holt, modestly; "if he would be willing to
preach the sermon, we might leave it that way, and I will add a few
remarks." But Maria's zeal for Father Cobb was a flash in the pan. He
was a sickly farmer, a licensed preacher, who, when he was called
upon occasionally to meet a sudden exigency, usually preached on the
beheading of John the Baptist.

"I guess you 've got things enough to write," said Maria, consolingly;
"you know how awfully a thing doos drag out when you come to write it
down on paper. Remember to tell how we 've all stayed right here."

When Holt went out, he saw Mr. Small beckoning him to come to where his
green wagon stood under a tree.

"I must tell you," he said, with an awkwardly repressed smile, "about a
trade of Uncle Capen's. He had a little lot up our way that they wanted
for a schoolhouse, and he agreed to sell it for what it cost him, and
the selectmen, knowing what it cost him,--fifty dollars,--agreed
with him that way. But come to sign the deed, he called for a hundred
dollars. 'How 's that,' says they; 'you bought it of Captain Sam Bowen
for fifty dollars.' 'Yes, but see here,' says Uncle Capen, 'it's cost
me on an average five dollars a year, for the ten year I 've had it, for
manure and ploughing and seed, and that's fifty dollars more.' But you
've sold the garden stuff off it, and had the money,' says they. 'Yes,'
says Uncle Capen, 'but that money 's spent and eat up long ago!'"

The minister smiled, shook hands with Mr. Small, and went home.

The church was crowded. Horses filled the sheds, horses were tied to the
fences all up and down the street. Funerals are always popular in the
country, and this one had a double element of attractiveness. The whole
population