st
thirty dollars, an overcoat nearly twice as much; a suit cloak, and
other necessities for his wife would amount to as much more, and the
children--oh, the thing couldn't be done for less than two hundred and
fifty dollars. Of course, it was entirely out of the question--he had
only wondered what it _would_ cost--that was all.

Still no sleep. He wished he hadn't spoken with Hay about his soul--next
time he would mind his own business. He wished he hadn't employed Hay.
He wished the meeting for consideration of the needs of the impenitent
had never taken place. "No man can come to me except the Father which
sent me draw him"--he wished he had remembered that passage, and quoted
it at the meeting--it was no light matter to interfere with the
Almighty's plans.

"Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy." Hah! _Could_
that carpenter be in the room, disarranging his train of thought with
such--such--tantalizing texts! They had kept him awake, and at his time
of life a restless night was a serious matter. Suppose--

Very early the next morning the village doctor, returning from a
patient's bedside, met the Deacon with a face which suggested to him
(the doctor was pious and imaginative) "Abraham on Mount Moriah." The
village butcher, more practical, hailed the good man, and informed him
he was in time for a fine steak, but the Deacon shook his head in agony,
and passed on. He neared the carpenter's house, stopped, tottered, and
looked over his shoulder as if intending to run; at length he made his
way behind the house, where Hay was chopping firewood. The carpenter saw
him and turned pale--he feared the Deacon had found cheaper labor, and
had come to give him warning.

"George," said the Deacon, "I've been doin' a heap of thinkin' 'bout
what we talked of yesterday. I've come to say that if you like I'll lend
you three hundred dollars fur as long as ye'v a mind to, without note,
security or int'rest; you to spend as much of it ez ye need to dress you
an' yer hull fam'ly in Sunday clothes, and to put the balance in the
Savin's Bank, at interest, to go on doin' the same with when necessary.
An' all of ye to go to church when ye feel so disposed. An' ef nobody
else's pew-door opens, yer allus welcome to mine. And may the Lord" the
Deacon finished the sentence to himself--"have mercy on my soul." Then
he said, aloud:

"That's all."

The carpenter, at the beginning of the Deacon's speech, had dropped his
axe,