poor relation in this
village for a good while and my brother was a shoemaker and on the upper
fringe of the town-folk class. My humor bump would have to stick up like
Cannon Hill afore I could see any joke in that."

"But you're not seriously advising me to treat a rich man differently
from a poor one?"

"Not openly different--no. But if you want to steer a perfectly SAFE
course, one that'll keep deep water under your keel the whole voyage,
why, there's your chart."

Mr. Ellery promptly tore the "chart" into small pieces.

"I'm going out," he said. "I shall be back by supper time."

Mrs. Coffin eyed him grimly.

"Goin' to run it blindfold, are you?" she asked.

"Yes, I am."

Her grimness disappeared and she smiled.

"I'll have your supper ready for you," she said. "Bring back a good
appetite."

The young man hesitated on the threshold.

"Mrs. Coffin," he demanded, "would YOU have called only on the
aristocrats at first?"

She shook her head, smiling still.

"No," she replied, "not me. I've always taken risks. But I didn't
know but you might be a safe sailor. It saves a lot of trouble in this
world."

"How about the next?"

"Oh, well, perhaps even the scum may count for somethin' over there."
She turned to face him and her smile vanished. "Go on, Mr. Ellery," she
said. "Go and call where you please. Far be it from me that I should
tell you to do anything else. I suppose likely you hope some day to be
a great preacher. I hope you will. But I'd enough sight rather you was a
good man than the very greatest. No reason why you can't be both. There
was a preacher over in Galilee once, so you told us yesterday, who was
just good. 'Twa'n't till years afterwards that the crowd came to realize
that he was great, too. And, if I recollect right, he chummed in with
publicans and sinners. I'm glad you tore up that fool paper of mine. I
hoped you might when I gave it to you. Now you run along, and I'll wash
dishes. If cleanliness is next to godliness, then a parson ought to eat
out of clean plates."

As a matter of fact, the minister's calls were in the nature of a
compromise, although an unintentional one. He dropped in on Zebedee
Mayo, owner of the big house on the slope of the hill. Captain Zeb took
him up into what he called his "cupoler," the observatory on the top of
the house, and showed him Trumet spread out like a map. The main road
was north and south, winding and twisting its rutted, sandy way. Along