of whisky
found in his room, and for a burst of inebriety that represented a good
deal in spot cash, Nickie quibbled. The quibble was obvious even to an
innocent soul like James. James was hurt, but he persisted.

Nickie was content to have the experiment continue, but he held out no
great hopes. "You know," he said, "this is your scheme, not mine. You, as
it were, forced me to submit. You said you'd reform me in spite of
myself. Well, I am patient, and you are earnest, but we don't seem to
make much progress."

For seven weeks the Rev. James Nippit continued experimenting and never
once lost faith.

James Nippit's pet work was in connection with his reform movement, the
Young Men's Mission, a design for upraising the youths of the larrikin
and criminal classes. The Young Men's Mission had attracted some
attention, people were found willing to contribute to the good work, and
this fact gave rise to some imposition. Uncertified persons of bad
character were found to be collecting for the fund and appropriating the
money to their own use. This caused James much distress of mind.

One Sunday afternoon when driving from his Sunday School the Rev. Nippit
was hailed by a trusted friend, who said:

"For the last ten minutes I have been listening to a man preaching on the
sands down there. He represents himself as one of the leaders of the
Young Men's Mission Movement, and I am confident he is an impostor. If he
is, it is your duty to expose him."

The Rev. James took up the task eagerly. Leaving the buggy in charge of a
small boy, the two gentle men joined the crowd, and James soon recognised
that the speaker was delivering something very like a sermon of his own,
but seasoning it with a sort of quaint, insolent humour, that suited the
tastes of his hearers admirably. The crowd laughed and applauded.

"Brothers and sisters," said the speaker, "I have shown you that these
young men must be divorced from the long-sleever, and rescued from the
lures of the plump, peroxided barmaid, and the blandishments of Bung, the
reprobate who runs the pub. I have shown you they must be turned from the
joys of the 'pushes,' tobacco chewing, and stoushing in offensive
Chinamen with bricks, and now I appeal to you for the means of doing
things. Money is said to be the root of all evil, but it is also the
means of much good. If we want to go to heaven, we must pay the tram
fare. He who gives quickly gives twice, but it is better still to g