so turned with heathen vanity
that you think you ought to get the reins of the universe into your
hands. Here's your classics, and your Spinoza, and your Cappadocians,
and your book-writing, and all your castles in the air, and your little
children lying on their sick-beds and you knowing nothing about it. Look
sharp, old man, your time is at hand, and think what the Judge may do
with you when His hand presses so tightly on His little children."

I sat down to my dinner, but couldn't touch a bit. It was a nice little
dinner, too,--a little roast chicken and a scrap of bacon and some nice
floury potatoes. No use. The thought of that child would come before me,
and her piteous cry: "Oh, don't, dear Lord, don't!" and, "Sure you won't
let Him, Mother; you said you wouldn't;" and with a great big lump in
my throat I pushed aside the plate and went over to the darkening
window.

After a time Hannah came in, looked at the dishes, and looked at me.

"Was there anything wrong with the chicken?" she said, thinking I was
reflecting on her cookery.

"No, Hannah, 't was all right; but I'm not in a humor for eating."

She was surprised. So was I. It was the first time for many years that I
bolted. Thank God, a good appetite and His Divine Grace have never
deserted me.

"I'm thinkin' you're in for somethin'," she said. "And no wondher! I
niver knew a man to timpt Providence like you. Will you have the hot
wather, as you ate nothin'?"

"Don't mind, Hannah. I'll have a cup of tea by and by."

I sat down to the fire, looking into all its glowing crevices and
crannies, thinking, thinking of many things. By and by, in came Father
Letheby. He was subdued and deferential, but evidently very much hurt at
my unaccustomed rudeness. He stood with his back to the fire, looking
down on me, and he said, in his best Sunday accent, smoothed and
ironed:--

"I confess, sir, I am still quite at a loss to understand your
rather--well--forcible remarks this evening. I can see, certainly, a
great deal of reason in your irritation; and I am not at all disposed to
contravene the principle that you have an indefeasible right to be
acquainted with the sorrows and trials of your parishioners; but pardon
me for saying it, I was only carrying out, perhaps too logically, your
own reiterated teaching."

"Look here," said I, "have you had your dinner?"

"Yes, sir," said he.

"Well, then, sit down, and have your coffee here. Touch that bell."

He sat