ink I do. I think it is the
proper thing," he concluded weakly.

"Depends some on how a feller's ben brought up, don't ye think so?" said
David.

"I should think it very likely," John assented, struggling manfully with
a yawn.

"I guess that's about my case," remarked Mr. Harum, "an' I sh'd have to
admit that I ain't much of a hand fer church-goin'. Polly has the
princ'pal charge of that branch of the bus'nis, an' the one I stay away
from, when I _don't_ go," he said with a grin, "'s the Prespyteriun."
John laughed.

"No, sir," said David, "I ain't much of a hand for't. Polly used to
worry at me about it till I fin'ly says to her, 'Polly,' I says, 'I'll
tell ye what I'll do. I'll compermise with ye,' I says. 'I won't
undertake to foller right along in your track--I hain't got the req'sit
speed,' I says, 'but f'm now on I'll go to church reg'lar on
Thanksgivin'.' It was putty near Thanksgivin' time," he remarked, "an' I
dunno but she thought if she c'd git me started I'd finish the heat,
an' so we fixed it at that."

"Of course," said John with a laugh, "you kept your promise?"

"Wa'al, sir," declared David with the utmost gravity, "fer the next five
years I never missed attendin' church on Thanksgivin' day but _four_
times; but after that," he added, "I had to beg off. It was too much of
a strain," he declared with a chuckle, "an' it took more time 'n Polly
c'd really afford to git me ready." And so he rambled on upon such
topics as suggested themselves to his mind, or in reply to his auditor's
comments and questions, which were, indeed, more perfunctory than
otherwise. For the Verjooses, the Rogerses, the Swaynes, and the rest,
were people whom John not only did not know, but whom he neither
expected nor cared to know; and so his present interest in them was
extremely small.

Outside of his regular occupations, and despite the improvement in his
domestic environment, life was so dull for him that he could not imagine
its ever being otherwise in Homeville. It was a year since the
world--his world--had come to an end, and though his sensations of loss
and defeat had passed the acute stage, his mind was far from healthy. He
had evaded David's question, or only half answered it, when he merely
replied that the rector had called upon him. The truth was that some
tentative advances had been made to him, and Mr. Euston had presented
him to a few of the people in his flock; but beyond the point of mere
politeness he