"No; she's sick." 

 "So I heard. The preacher didn't stay at her house last night." 

 "How do you know?" 

 "Mrs. Williams called in while you were away. She had just been to sister Russell's." 

 "And the new preacher didn't stay at her house last night?" 

 "No. Mrs. Williams asked particularly." 

 "He must have ridden over from S— this morning. I am sorry I didn't wait and ask him to come home and stay with us." 

 "I wish you had. Sister Russell is too sick to have him at her house, if he should go there. Who stayed to class-meeting?" 

 "Not over half a dozen, and they were all women. I left Bill Taylor and Harry Chester waiting outside for their wives." 

 "They wouldn't ask him home." 

 "No; and if they did, I should be sorry to have him go there. I wish I had stayed in, and invited him home. But it can't be helped now, and there's no use in fretting over it." 

 Soon after this, dinner was announced, and the farmer sat down with his family to a table loaded with good and substantial things. He ate and enjoyed himself; though not as highly as he would have done, had not thoughts of the new preacher intruded themselves. 

 After dinner, Martin took a comfortable nap, which lasted about an hour. He then went out and took a little walk to himself. While standing at the gate, which opened from his farm on to the county road, a man, who lived half a mile below, came along. This man was not a member of any church, and took some delight, at times, in having his jest with professors of religion. 

 "Fine afternoon, Mr. Ellis," said Martin, as the man stopped. 

 "Very fine. How are you all?" 

 "Quite well. Any news stirring?" 

 "Why, no, not much. Only they say that the Methodists about here have all joined the Amalgamation Society." 

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