s you," said the latter. "It can't do ye no
harm, an' it may do ye some good. The fact is," he continued, "that you
ain't out o' danger of runnin' in a rut. It would do you good mebbe to
git more acquainted, an' mebbe this'll be the start on't."

"With a little team of half a dozen women, as you called them," said
John. "Mr. Euston has offered to introduce me to any one I cared to
know."

"I didn't mean the singin' folks," responded Mr. Harum, "I meant the
church folks in gen'ral, an' it'll come 'round in a natur'l sort of
way--not like bein' took 'round by Mr. Euston as if you'd _ast_ him to.
You can't git along--you may, an' have fer a spell, but not alwus--with
nobody to visit with but me an' Polly an' Dick, an' so on, an' once in a
while with the parson; you ben used to somethin' diff'rent, an' while I
ain't sayin' that Homeville soci'ty, pertic'lerly in the winter, 's the
finest in the land, or that me an' Polly ain't all right in our way, you
want a change o' feed once in a while, or you _may_ git the colic.
Now," proceeded the speaker, "if this singin' bus'nis don't do more'n
to give ye somethin' new to think about, an' take up an evenin' now an'
then, even if it bothers ye some, I think mebbe it'll be a good thing
fer ye. They say a reasonable amount o' fleas is good fer a dog--keeps
him from broodin' over _bein'_ a dog, mebbe," suggested David.

"Perhaps you are right," said John. "Indeed, I don't doubt that you are
right, and I will take your advice."

"Thank you," said David a minute or two later on, holding out the glass
while John poured, "jest a wisdom toothful. I don't set up to be no
Sol'mon, an' if you ever find out how I'm bettin' on a race jest
'copper' me an' you c'n wear di'monds, but I know when a hoss has stood
too long in the barn as soon as the next man."

It is possible that even Mr. Euston did not fully appreciate the
difficulties of the task which he persuaded our friend John to
undertake; and it is certain that had the latter known all that they
were to be he would have hardened his heart against both the pleadings
of the rector and the advice of David. His efforts were welcomed and
seconded by Mr. Hubber the tenor, and Miss Knapp the organist, and there
was some earnestness displayed at first by the ladies of the choir; but
Mr. Little, the bass, proved a hopeless case, and John, wholly against
his intentions, and his inclinations as well, had eventually to take
over the basso's duty al