white crows,'
said Abraham Lord.

'Nay, Abram; we want to keep th' black 'uns aat o' th' nests.'

'Then yo' mud as weel fell th' rookery,' was Abraham's sharp
retort, which called forth a hearty laugh.

'If I read th' Bible reet,' said Amos Entwistle, returning to the
fray, 'if I read th' Bible reet, a felley once coome to Jesus
Christ an' axed Him if mony or few wur saved; and all he geet for
an answer wur, "Thee mind and geet saved thisel'; it'll tak' thee
all thy time wi'out botherin' abaat others." An' I think it'll
tak' us all aar time baat botherin' abaat Amanda Stott. I move as
we tak' no more notice on her axin' to come back amang us. It's
geddin' lat, an' my porritch is waitin' for me at wom'.'

This was more than Mr. Penrose could bear, and rising to his feet,
he asked, in suppressed tones, that the matter under discussion
might receive the care and wisdom and mercy that a soul demanded
from those who held in their hands the shaping of its earthly
destiny; and then, in a voice stifled with emotion, he ventured to
draw the contrast between the last speaker, who would fain hurry,
for the sake of an evening meal, decisions that had to deal with
the peace of a repentant girl, and He who, in the moments of
bodily hunger, putting aside the refreshment brought by His
disciples, said, 'I have meat to eat that ye know not of.'

Nor did Mr. Penrose plead in vain. Those who listened to him were
moved by his words, and Amos Entwistle sat down, to utter no
further word against Amanda.

From this time the tone of the discussion changed. Not that Mr.
Penrose devoutly listened; indeed, he was listless, only
recovering himself, now and again, as some striking sentence, or
scrap of rude philosophy, fell on his indifferent ear. Leaning
back in his chair, his eye rested on the hard features of the men
sitting on either side of the deacons' table. They were men of
grit, men of the hills, men whose religious ancestry was right
royal. Their fathers had fayed out well the foundations on which
the old chapel stood, and hewn the stones, and reared the walls,
and all for love--and after the close of hard days of toil. They
were men who knew nothing of moral half-lights--there were no
gradations in their sense of right and wrong. Sin was sin, and
righteousness was righteousness--the one night and the other day.
They drew a line, narrow and inflexible, and knew no debatable
zone where those who lingered were neither sinners nor s