hain't never ben able to reconcile how many good things
the' be, an' how little most on us gits o' them. I hain't ben to meetin'
fer a long spell 'cause I hain't had no fit clo'es, but I remember most
of the preachin' I've set under either dwelt on the wrath to come, or
else on the Lord's doin' all things well, an' providin'. I hope I ain't
no wickeder 'n than the gen'ral run, but it's putty hard to hev faith in
the Lord's providin' when you hain't got nothin' in the house but corn
meal, an' none too much o' that."

"That's so, Mis' Cullom, that's so," affirmed David. "I don't blame ye a
mite. 'Doubts assail, an' oft prevail,' as the hymnbook says, an' I
reckon it's a sight easier to have faith on meat an' potatoes 'n it is
on corn meal mush. Wa'al, as I was sayin'--I hope I ain't tirin' ye with
my goin's on?"

"No," said Mrs. Cullom, "I'm engaged to hear ye, but nobody 'd suppose to
see ye now that ye was such a f'lorn little critter as you make out."

"It's jest as I'm tellin' ye, an' more also, as the Bible says,"
returned David, and then, rather more impressively, as if he were
leading up to his conclusion, "it come along to a time when I was 'twixt
thirteen an' fourteen. The' was a cirkis billed to show down here in
Homeville, an' ev'ry barn an' shed fer miles around had pictures stuck
on to 'em of el'phants, an' rhinoceroses, an' ev'ry animul that went
into the ark; an' girls ridin' bareback an' jumpin' through hoops, an'
fellers ridin' bareback an' turnin' summersets, an' doin' turnovers on
swings; an' clowns gettin' hoss-whipped, an' ev'ry kind of a thing that
could be pictered out; an' how the' was to be a grand percession at ten
o'clock, 'ith golden chariots, an' scripteral allegories, an' the hull
bus'nis; an' the gran' performance at two o'clock; admission twenty-five
cents, children under twelve, at cetery, an' so forth. Wa'al, I hadn't
no more idee o' goin' to that cirkis 'n I had o' flyin' to the moon, but
the night before the show somethin' waked me 'bout twelve o'clock. I
don't know how 't was. I'd ben helpin' mend fence all day, an' gen'ally
I never knowed nothin' after my head struck the bed till mornin'. But
that night, anyhow, somethin' waked me, an' I went an' looked out the
windo', an' there was the hull thing goin' by the house. The' was more
or less moon, an' I see the el'phant, an' the big wagins--the drivers
kind o' noddin' over the dashboards--an' the chariots with canvas
covers--I don't k