se, the absence of the pastor
devolved on them the burden of conducting the duties of the sanctuary.
That God was great and good, and that we all were sinners, were truths
that seemed to have melted into the heart of Deacon Enos, so that his
very soul and spirit were bowed down with them. With Deacon Abrams it
was an _undisputed fact_, which he had settled long ago, and concerning
which he felt that there could be no reasonable doubt, and his bustling
way of dealing with the matter seemed to say that he knew _that_ and a
great many things besides.

Deacon Enos was known far and near as a very proverb for peacefulness of
demeanor and unbounded charitableness in covering and excusing the
faults of others. As long as there was any doubt in a case of alleged
evil doing, Deacon Enos _guessed_ "the man did not mean any harm, after
all;" and when transgression became too barefaced for this excuse, he
always guessed "it wa'n't best to say much about it; nobody could tell
what _they_ might be left to."

Some incidents in his life will show more clearly these traits. A
certain shrewd landholder, by the name of Jones, who was not well
reported of in the matter of honesty, sold to Deacon Enos a valuable lot
of land, and received the money for it; but, under various pretences,
deferred giving the deed. Soon after, he died; and, to the deacon's
amazement, the deed was nowhere to be found, while this very lot of land
was left by will to one of his daughters.

The deacon said "it was very extraor'nary: he always knew that Seth
Jones was considerably sharp about money, but he did not think he would
do such a right up-and-down wicked thing." So the old man repaired to
'Squire Abel to state the case, and see if there was any redress. "I
kinder hate to tell of it," said he; "but, 'Squire Abel, you know Mr.
Jones was--was--_what he was_, even if he _is_ dead and gone!" This was
the nearest approach the old gentleman could make to specifying a heavy
charge against the dead. On being told that the case admitted of no
redress, Deacon Enos comforted himself with half soliloquizing, "Well,
at any rate, the land has gone to those two girls, poor lone critters--I
hope it will do _them_ some good. There is Silence--we won't say much
about her; but Sukey is a nice, pretty girl." And so the old man
departed, leaving it as his opinion that, since the matter could not be
mended, it was just as well not to say any thing about it.

Now, the two girls