om in that clergyman's congregation; for Mr. Belcher, in his
routine, should have illuminated their public services by his presence,
but he did not appear.

"This comes," bitterly complained one of the deacons, "of a minister's
meddling with public affairs."

But during the week following, Mr. Belcher had had a satisfactory
interview with Mr. Snow, and on the morning of the flight of Benedict he
drove in the carriage with his family up to the door of that gentleman's
church, and gratified the congregation and its reverend head by walking
up the broad aisle, and, with his richly dressed flock, taking his old
seat.

As he looked around upon the humbler parishioners, he seemed to say, by
his patronizing smile: "Mr. Snow and the great proprietor are at peace.
Make yourselves easy, and enjoy your sunshine while it lasts."

Mr. Buffum never went to church. He had a theory that it was necessary
for him to remain in charge of his establishment, and that he was doing
a good thing by sending his servants and dependents. When, therefore, he
entered Mr. Snow's church on the Sunday morning which found Mr. Belcher
comfortably seated there, and stumped up the broad aisle in his
shirt-sleeves, the amazement of the minister and the congregation may be
imagined. If he had been one of his own insane paupers _en deshabille_
he could not have excited more astonishment or more consternation.

Mr. Snow stopped in the middle of a stanza of the first hymn, as if the
words had dried upon his tongue. Every thing seemed to stop. Of this,
however, Mr. Buffum was ignorant. He had no sense of the proprieties of
the house, and was intent only on reaching Mr. Belcher's pew.

Bending to his patron's ear, he whispered a few words, received a few
words in return, and then retired. The proprietor's face was red with
rage and mortification, but he tried to appear unconcerned, and the
services went on to their conclusion. Boys who sat near the windows
stretched their necks to see whether smoke was issuing from the
poor-house; and it is to be feared that the ministrations of the morning
were not particularly edifying to the congregation at large. Even Mr.
Snow lost his place in his sermon more frequently than usual. When the
meeting was dismissed, a hundred heads came together in chattering
surmise, and when they walked into the streets, the report of Benedict's
escape with his little boy met them. They understood, too, why Buffum
had come to Mr. Belche