t measure sacred time and wasted opportunities. At
intervals the pastor, with an innocent affectation of having just
observed the silence, would remark: "There is yet opportunity. . . . .
Time is passing, brethren. . . . . Any brother or sister. . . . . We
shall be glad to hear from any one." Farmer Bragg, tired with his day's
hoeing, snored quietly in the corner of a seat. Mrs. Parker dropped a
hymn-book. Little Tommy Blake, who had fallen over while napping and hit
his nose, snivelled under his breath. Madeline Brand, as she sat at the
melodeon below the minister's desk, stifled a small yawn with her pretty
fingers. A June bug boomed through the open window and circled around
Deacon Tuttle's head, affecting that good man with the solicitude
characteristic of bald-headed persons when buzzing things are about. Next
it made a dive at Madeline, attracted, perhaps, by her shining eyes, and
the little gesture of panic with which she evaded it was the prettiest
thing in the world; at least, so it seemed to Henry Burr, a
broad-shouldered young fellow on the back seat, whose strong, serious
face is just now lit up by a pleasant smile.

Mr. Lewis, the minister, being seated directly under the clock, cannot
see it without turning around, wherein the audience has an advantage of
him, which it makes full use of. Indeed, so closely is the general
attention concentrated upon the time-piece, that a stranger might draw
the mistaken inference that this was the object for whose worship the
little company had gathered. Finally, making a slight concession of
etiquette to curiosity, Mr. Lewis turns and looks up at the clock, and,
again facing the people, observes, with the air of communicating a piece
of intelligence, "There are yet a few moments."

In fact, and not to put too fine a point upon it, there are five minutes
left, and the young men on the back seats, who attend prayer-meetings to
go home with the girls, are experiencing increasing qualms of alternate
hope and fear as the moment draws near when they shall put their fortune
to the test, and win or lose it all. As they furtively glance over at the
girls, how formidable they look, how superior to common affections, how
serenely and icily indifferent, as if the existence of youth of the other
sex in their vicinity at that moment was the thought furthest from their
minds! How presumptuous, how audacious, to those youth themselves now
appears the design, a little while ago so jauntil