ender man, who at that moment chanced to pass their
retreat.

"No," her companion answered promptly, "that is not the bishop. His
name is Shumway,--Dr. Shumway--"

"Dr. Shumway!" echoed the child. "The man the bishop is going to send to
our church? Well, I don't wonder the people mean to kick! Ain't he the
homeliest ever?"

"Who told you that?" gravely asked the stranger preacher, all the smile
gone from his kindly eyes.

"That he's homely? No one. I can see it for myself."

"I mean who told you that the people intend to kick?"

"Oh! Grandpa was talking to Grandma last evening. The paper said Dr.
Shumway was to take the place of Dr. Glaves. It's a pity they can't
divide up, ain't it? Dr. Glaves would look less like an elephant if he
didn't have so much meat on him and Dr. Shumway needs a lot more'n he's
got."

"Who is your grandfather?" interrupted the man beside her, ignoring the
candid criticisms of his entertainer.

"Dr. Campbell, President of the State University," she answered proudly.

"Oh!" He was silent a moment; then as if musing aloud, he murmured, "So
they mean to kick, do they?"

"Well, wouldn't you? This is the third time South Avenue Church has
asked for one partic'lar man and got a different fellow. It's time they
kicked, seems to me. I guess the bishop likes to lord it over the
churches and have his own way in things."

"Perhaps he thinks he knows best what kind of a man is needed in his
different charges."

"P'r'aps he does, but he made an awful bungle when he sent Dr. Glaves
down here,--that's sure."

"Possibly that was a mistake," replied her companion in a queer,
strained voice. "But no one is sorrier than the bishop himself when he
blunders."

"Then I sh'd think he would be more careful about giving us another
misfit. We are tired of 'em."

"Dr. Shumway is a man whom everyone loves," said the ministerial-looking
gentleman warmly.

"I'm glad of that, then; but I am sorry he is coming to South Avenue
Church just the same. He doesn't look as if he could stand being kicked
any more'n Papa could. Has he got any children?"

"Yes, five, I believe."

"Any my size?"

"I think his family is pretty well grown up, my girl."

"That's lucky, for if the church _should_ happen to wear him out like
they did Papa, why, his children could take care of themselves when he
died and not have to dig like we did, and fin'ly be adopted or else sent
to the poor farm."

The big man fidgeted in his