nessed the conflict we have sketched above, and when
good Mr. Trowbridge gave his next lurch, recovering himself with a
snort, and then drew out a red handkerchief and blew his nose with a
loud imitation, as if to let the boys know that he had not been asleep,
poor Deacon Marble was brought to a sore strait. But I have reason to
think that he would have weathered the stress if it had not been for a
sweet-faced little boy in the front of the gallery. The lad had been
innocently watching the same scene, and at its climax laughed out loud,
with a frank and musical explosion, and then suddenly disappeared
backward into his mother's lap. That laugh was just too much, and Deacon
Marble could no more help laughing than could Deacon Trowbridge help
sleeping. Nor could he conceal it. Though he coughed and put up his
handkerchief and hemmed--it _was_ a laugh--Deacon!--and every boy in the
house knew it, and liked you better for it--so inexperienced were
they.--_Norwood._

THE DEACON'S TROUT

He was a curious trout. I believe he knew Sunday just as well as Deacon
Marble did. At any rate, the Deacon thought the trout meant to aggravate
him. The Deacon, you know, is a little waggish. He often tells about
that trout. Says he: "One Sunday morning, just as I got along by the
willows, I heard an awful splash, and not ten feet from shore I saw the
trout, as long as my arm, just curving over like a bow and going down
with something for breakfast. Gracious says I, and I almost jumped out
of the wagon. But my wife Polly, says she, 'What on airth are you
thinkin' of, Deacon? It's Sabbath day, and you're goin' to meetin'! It's
a pretty business for a deacon!' That sort o' cooled me off. But I do
say that, for about a minute, I wished I wasn't a deacon. But 'twouldn't
make any difference, for I came down next day to mill on purpose, and I
came down once or twice more, and nothin' was to be seen, tho' I tried
him with the most temptin' things. Wal, next Sunday I came along agin,
and, to save my life I couldn't keep off worldly and wanderin' thoughts.
I tried to be sayin' my catechism, but I couldn't keep my eyes off the
pond as we came up to the willows. I'd got along in the catechism, as
smooth as the road, to the Fourth Commandment, and was sayin' it out
loud for Polly, and jist as I was sayin': '_What is required in the
Fourth Commandment?_' I heard a splash, and there was the trout, and,
afore I could think, I said: 'Gracious, Polly, I m