ght here that with
most men duty means something unpleasant which the other fellow ought to
do. As a matter of fact, a man's first duty is to mind his own business.
It's been my experience that it takes about all the thought and work
which one man can give to run one man right, and if a fellow's putting
in five or six hours a day on his neighbor's character, he's mighty apt
to scamp the building of his own.

Well, when Brother Bill got home from business that first night, the
Deacon explained that every time he lit a two-bit cigar he was
depriving a Zulu of twenty-five helpful little tracts which might have
made a better man of him; that fast horses were a snare and plug hats a
wile of the Enemy; that the Board of Trade was the Temple of Belial and
the brokers on it his sons and servants.

Brother Bill listened mighty patiently to him, and when the Deacon had
pumped out all the Scripture that was in him, and was beginning to suck
air, he sort of slunk into the conversation like a setter pup that's
been caught with the feathers on its chops.

"Brother Zeke," says he, "I shall certainly let your words soak in. I
want to be a number two red, hard, sound and clean sort of a man, and
grade contract on delivery day. Perhaps, as you say, the rust has got
into me and the Inspector won't pass me, and if I can see it that way
I'll settle my trades and get out of the market for good."

The Deacon knew that Brother Bill had scraped together considerable
property, and, as he was a bachelor, it would come to him in case the
broker was removed by any sudden dispensation. What he really feared was
that this money might be fooled away in high living and speculation. And
so he had banged away into the middle of the flock, hoping to bring down
those two birds. Now that it began to look as if he might kill off the
whole bunch he started in to hedge.

"Is it safe, William?" says he.

"As Sunday-school," says Bill, "if you do a strictly brokerage business
and don't speculate."

"I trust, William, that you recognize the responsibilities of your
stewardship?"

[Illustration: "_I started in to curl up that young fellow to a
crisp._"]

Bill fetched a groan. "Zeke," says he, "you cornered me there, and I
'spose I might as well walk up to the Captain's office and settle. I
hadn't bought or sold a bushel on my own account in a year till last
week, when I got your letter saying that you were coming. Then I saw
what looked like a safe cha