ow-shed, ye know."

"Guess, though, ye won't want the nails druv no less p'ticler, will ye,
Deac'n?" inquired Hay. "But I tell yer what I'll do--I'll throw off
fifty cents a day."

"Two dollars ort to be enough, George," resumed the Deacon.
"Carpenterin's pooty work, an' takes a sight of headpiece sometimes, but
there's no intellec' required to work on a cow-shed. Say two dollars,
an' come along."

The carpenter thought bitterly of what a little way the usual three
dollars went, and of how much would have to be done with what he could
get out of the cow-shed, but the idea of losing even that was too
horrible to be endured, so he hastily replied:

"Two an' a quarter, an' I'm your man."

"Well," said the Deacon, "it's a powerful price to pay for work on a
cow-shed, but I s'pose I mus' stan' it. Hurry up; thar's the
mill-whistle blowin' seven."

Hay snatched his tools, kissed a couple of thankful tears, out of his
wife's eyes, and was soon busy on the cow-shed, with the Deacon looking
on.

"George," said the Deacon suddenly, causing the carpenter to stop his
hammer in mid-air, "think it over agen, an' say two dollars."

Hay gave the good Deacon a withering glance, and for a few moments the
force of suppressed profanity caused his hammer to bang with unusual
vigor, while the owner of the cow-shed rubbed his hands in ecstasy at
the industry of his _employe_.

The air was bracing, the Winter sun shone brilliantly, the Deacon's
breakfast was digesting fairly, and his mind had not yet freed itself
from the influences of the Sabbath. Besides, he had secured a good
workman at a low price, and all these influences combined to put the
Deacon in a pleasant frame of mind. He rambled through his mind for a
text which would piously express his condition, and texts brought back
Sunday, and Sunday reminded him of the meeting of the night before. And
here was one of those very men before him--a good man in many respects,
though he _was_ higher-priced than he should be. How was the cause of
the Master to be prospered if His servants made no effort? Then there
came to the Deacon's mind the passage, "--he which converteth the sinner
from the error of his way shall save a soul from death, and shall hide a
multitude of sins." What particular sins of his own needed hiding the
Deacon did not find it convenient to remember just then, but he meekly
admitted to himself and the Lord that he had them, in a general way.
Then, with that dir