ken root again and sprouted. There were moss and shining spots on the
underside of the unplaned rafters, little green pools of infusoria stood
on the ledge of the windows whose panes were at times suddenly clouded
by mysterious unknown breaths from without or within. It was oppressed
with an extravagance of leaves at all seasons, whether in summer, when
green and limp they crowded the porch, doorways, and shutters, or when
penetrating knot-holes and interstices of shingle and clapboard, on some
creeping vine, they unexpectedly burst and bourgeoned on the walls like
banners; or later, when they rotted in brown heaps in corners, outlined
the edges of the floor with a thin yellow border, or invaded the ranks
of the high-backed benches which served as pews.

There had been a continuous rustling at the porch and the shaking out
of waterproofs and closing of umbrellas until the half-filled church was
already redolent of damp dyes and the sulphur of India rubber. The eyes
of the congregation were turned to the door with something more than the
usual curiosity and expectation. For the new revivalist preacher from
Horse Shoe Bay was coming that morning. Already voices of authority were
heard approaching, and keeping up their conversation to the very door
of the sacred edifice in marked contrast with the awed and bashful
whisperings in the porch of the ordinary congregation. The worshipers
recognized the voices of Deacons Shadwell and Bradley; in the
reverential hush of the building they seemed charged with undue
importance.

"It was set back in the road for quiet in the Lord's work," said
Bradley.

"Yes, but it oughtn't be hidden! Let your light so shine before men,
you know, Brother Bradley," returned a deep voice, unrecognized and
unfamiliar--presumably that of the newcomer.

"It wouldn't take much to move it--on skids and rollers--nearer to the
road," suggested Shadwell tentatively.

"No, but if you left it stranded there in the wind and sun, green and
sappy as it is now, ye'd have every seam and crack startin' till the
ribs shone through, and no amount of calkin' would make it watertight
agin. No; my idea is--clear out the brush and shadder around it! Let the
light shine in upon it! Make the waste places glad around it, but keep
it THERE! And that's my idea o' gen'ral missionary work; that's how the
gospel orter be rooted."

Here the bell, which from the plain open four-posted belfry above
had been clanging with a met