og-cabin hearers,--how
unlike the elegant and costly apparel worn in our eastern sanctuaries!
But I like the western way best as to dress. I enjoy seeing the poor,
in his plain attire, sitting unabashed by the side of the man in
"goodly apparel." And when I consider what thousands of starving souls
are kept out of Christian churches because they cannot dress in
broadcloth and silk, and how much money is wasted and vanity indulged
by the bedizened crowds that throng our sanctuaries, I am thankful
that the reign of fashion is unknown on the frontier.

But these hardy pioneers are bold and independent thinkers. The
preacher must show himself "a workman that needeth not to be ashamed,
_rightly_ dividing the word of truth," if he would keep his hold on
their respect. It will not do to be careless even in teaching the
Sabbath school. I was suddenly reminded of this yesterday. Speaking on
the subject of benevolence, I had remarked that the poorest of us, if
we were careful not to waste, might have something that we could spare
as well as not to those needier than ourselves. And I inquired if any
scholar could tell me what scripture enforced this lesson. As no one
responded, I read the account of the multiplying of the loaves and
fishes when Christ fed the fainting multitudes; and coming to the
words, "Gather up the fragments, that nothing be lost," I asked, "Do
not these words show that we ought to save the pieces, that we may
give them to the hungry?"

"No, sir," promptly answered a lad of about sixteen.

Thinking he had misunderstood the question, I repeated it, saying, "I
asked, Thomas,"--for that was the boy's name,--"if this language does
not teach that we should save what we are apt to throw away, that we
may have something to give the poor."

"I do not think it does," he replied.

"Why not?" I inquired.

"Jesus told the disciples to share the nice new loaves with the
people, and to keep the bits and ends for themselves."

He was right. I had unconsciously been making that great miracle of
mercy teach stinginess! How often I had heard it explained to polished
audiences in New England in the same way, and not a criticism offered.
Yet the one who pointed out this strangely-common error was a child
belonging to one of the most thriftless of these frontier families.
His name is Jones; and he is, I think, a lad of promise, in whom I am
becoming much interested, as also in his father, a restless, singular
being, but w