VII. Now the fourth and fifth days, there were murmurings loud, 'Mongst the penitent ones in the terrified crowd: For the hearse and the grave and the pall and the shroud VIII. And one hard-skinned old sinner who never had been, Felt convicted of sin. IX. And he rose with a faltering voice, to declare That of all the transgressors who chanced to be there, There was no one whose crimes with his own could compare, And he knew very well there was not anywhere And the head-preacher looked on, a little askance, Then he kindly barred every peace-maker's advance, And he said, "They have piped all their lives-let them dance! XIV. And 'twas true: for they fought as from Sheol inspired, XV. But the sturdy itinerant bade them to stand, Which they did, with some help; he took each by a hand, And then clasped them together and said "Join our band, Now, and love one another." They heard the command, Plain and simple, but grand: XVI. And soul answered to soul in a comradeship true, Notes on the Above. Stanza I. In some of the Western states, there are thousands of those sparkling little bodies of water-often skirted by natural groves, in which picnic-gatherers have often enjoyed the day, and fishing-parties camped the whole or part of a night. These haunts of undiluted nature are fast being absorbed into "summer resorts”, “Assemblies", "Chautauquas", etc. Stanza II., Line 3-There are no doubt some of these primitive religious services still held in various parts of the country: but the veritable older-fashioned ones are largely relics of memory. The tents were generally made of such canvass or other material as the worshipers could command: sometimes wooden "shanties" or huts answered the purpose. The "belligerent air" that these tents are said to have possessed, was not at all fictitious. A week's camp-meeting meant a succession of hard strivings for religious progress; also the reclamation of such sinners as could be induced to attend the sessions. also included a stern resolve to maintain order, and to resist and drive away from the meetings, such bad members of the audience It as would not conduct themselves properly. Stanza IV.-Line 1-The itinerants of the olden time were generally among the most devoted and heroic of characters. They endured long journeys through forests infested with wild beasts, reptiles, miasma, and other deadly perils. They had, in addition to their regular spiritual graces, a massive sort of tact, and could be "smiling or grim", as the case demanded. Stanza VI., Lines 4th and 6th-Peter Cartwright was one of the most faithful and formidable of the oldtime itinerants, and may well be called the Fighting Parson. He was a Virginian by birth (1785), a Kentuckian when converted (1801), and a preacher for over half a century in Kentucky, Illinois, and Tennessee. He received over 10,000 members into the church, and baptized 12,000 different converts. He preached 15,000 sermons: sometimes at the rate of four per week. He lived to be over eightyseven years old. He could be not only a forcible and persuasive pastor, but a pugilist when necessary: and often when he could make no impression upon a "rowdy" with his preaching, succeeded in doing so with his fist. A Sheltered Rip HAD come home from Eu rope-and young, enthusiastic, and ple used to have more surprises upon pressing their footsteps upon native soil, than they do now, when the very ether has been spun into invisible wires for telegraph-lines. As an example, if you are, while on this year's ocean, ruined by some miserable stock or other standing on its head and throwing off its golden wig of entitled value, you can be gently notified of it by some obliging friend while still at sea-and made to feel still more at sea all the rest of the way home. You do not have to wait for trouble of any kind until you land: it now encompasses the earth. The environment of the North Pole itself will soon be no protection. Of course there were not so many friends at the dock to greet me, as I had anticipated. The custom-house official was present: I had known him a long time, and helped him to his position. He examined my stuff perfunctorily, slapped me on the back, and said, "I'm sorry for you, old fellow: hope your luck will change", and made me wonder why my luck need change, and what I had to be pitied for. I had rather expected, too, that my best and latest fiancée, Miss Gertrude Valentine, would drive down to the dock to meet a fellow. Of course it might look a little unconventional, but then, she herself was a little unconventional, and not particularly environed by man-made and woman-made rules. Her father was a millionaire, several-ply, and she could Van Winkle. summon chaperones enough whenever needed, to fill all the carriages in the Valentine barn. I had cabled her who was coming, and, unless ill that day, she could have met me just as well as not. Only my broker was there as if expecting me, although two or three rather close acquaintances bowed and shook hands carelessly. "I'm dreadfully sorry, old boy, but about everything in America is flat down, including all your affairs, and you will have to make an assignment and commence again", he said. And then he told me the identical ancient story-the same "NOT MANY FRIENDS TO GREET ME." miserable lot of miserable happenings that have been imparted to so many since the great mingled farce and tragedy of Business was first staged. A financial A financial black-fog had settled all over our country during the past few days, and crash after crash from falling firms had reverberated through the gloom. I "And our friend Mr. Valentine?" inquired, referring to Gertrude's father, anxious lest the trouble had also fallen upon her. "Oh, he is one of the few who are making money out of this outrageous affair. He's all right. He generally uses the occasion when financial matters are at low water, to spike down his own interests in rock-bottoms that he couldn't reach at any other time. He's been buying securities at half of what they're worth and a third of what they'll bring when the business freshet gets back. No ruin on his plate!" I was glad to know that Gertrude was not liable to come to want, or even fancied want, during the current financial unpleasantness, for I loved her more than any fiancée I had ever had. Indeed, it is accurate enough to say that she was the only one of them that I had ever really loved the others, I am now ashamed to say, being the victims or the victors of flirtation. I loved her so well, that next day I called at the house to release her from our engagement-now that I was a poor man. Of course I had a sneaking belief, though not a hope, that she would say No-she would not be released-she would follow me to the end of the world if I stubbornly insisted on going thereshe loved me for myself alone, and was proud to do so, and in fact she would have enough money for us both, when it came to that. And then I was going to say that I did not want her money I would never touch even one side of a cent of it -I could make another fortune as easily as my father had made this one that I had lost: and so on and so on. But the dialogue failed .to present itself. When I informed her, with a certain dash of ruined magnanimity, that marital freedom had been safely brought past the newly acerb butler and set up in her presence, she did not even flinch from the ordeal of accepting it. She merely said, "Well, Hal, perhaps, under all the circumstances, it's best." Of course, I loved her much more, after that: we often adore that which is hard to attain and in this case, the hardness seemed crystallized into impossibility. Evidently, her mother's loveliness of face, form, and disposition-with the wit and charming little graces with which she abounded—were not all she had inherited. Her thrifty sire had handed her down a love for prosperity, and a determination never to marry a man who could not give something in return that should be an equivalent to the money she would inherit. And indeed I loved her well enough to respect her in that idea, and to uphold her in it. True, love has been called one of the most selfish things in the world: but it may contain at times vast veins of unselfishness. Many a person has not really known the depths and capabilities of his nature, until he has had a chance to make a great sacrifice. And I have wondered, since, that I had strength to rise and stand before this radiant creature and say to her, while her loveliness was all the time torturing me with its loss "You are quite right in accepting release from me: if you had refused to do so-as my foolish fancy hoped-in spite of me I should have compelled you to comply. "My good sense informs me that I have no qualities that should induce you to accept me on other than even terms, so far as position is concerned. "I have heard that you could marry a man of noble blood you furnishing the wealth, and he the position: would have done so, perhaps, but for me. Now, if you can love and respect him, why should you not live with him? All of these policy-marriages do not prove unhappy. "I shall go to work and restore my fortune, but it will take a few years, and I could not ask you to wait that long, in any event. Good-bye." She was marble-white in the face, but did not flinch. She only said once more, "Well, Hal, perhaps under all the circumstances it is best"-and disappeared behind folding doors. "She certainly has the Valentine blood -good and strong, and in sufficient quantities", I thought, as I went out of the "WELL, HAL, PERHAPS IT'S BEST." door, not giving a glance at the haughty butler. I had not walked more than half a block, when I met R. H. G. Worthington, then proprietor of the best dime museum in town. He had been one of my fellowpassengers on the steamer, and we became quite well acquainted: for he was interesting in his way, and I, although not particularly so, furnished for him what might be called an interesting audience-which means, with most people, an interested one. "All the world's a fake, an' all the men an' women on it is mostly fakers", he had declared, standing on the deck, and almost unconsciously paraphrasing Shakespeare. "I've been over to London to git something real in the fake line: but all of 'em that I could find, was jest fake fakes. There wan't nothin' I could dig up or pull down there, but what I could see into it, the first time I looked at it. All the sleight o' hand I found in London, I could do myself, with one hand." "But isn't it easy enough to fool the general public with these things?" "Oh, yes, it's easy enough to fool the public themselves, at first", replied Mr. Worthington. "But, you see, there's lots o' cur'os'ties comes to see cur'os'ties. They's albinos comes to see albinos, an' sword-swallerers comes to see sword-swallerers, an' whirlin' dervishes comes to see whirlin' dervishes, an' juggiers comes to see jugglers, an' sleight o' handers comes to see the sleight o' handers. Them that comes fur that purpose, is some of 'em out of employm'nt, an' they're jealous, an' ef anything is too easy, they give it to the crowd, an' the crowd gives it to each other, an' so on, till the show-goin' people don't care for the show, an' won't come. "It's easy enough to fool the people at one-day stands: when I was travellin' with a circus, I could run almost anything down the throats o' their simplic'ty. I could put a white wig on my wife, an' intr'duce her to all inquirin' friends as an albino, she gettin' twenty dollars a |