this servant boy and that hired
girl are acting the hypocrite in attending this master's meeting, or
joining his long prayers, or eating meat on Friday, in violation of the
precepts of the church, they are becoming stumbling blocks on his way to
salvation--resisting the design of God, who wishes all men to be saved,
as well as ruining their own souls. "He that despiseth small things
shall fall by little and little."

While these events were the order of the day in Vermont, the
proselytizers in York were not idle. Amanda now, since Paul had not only
left the house, but even went away from the neighborhood, thought she,
and her coadjutors the parsons, would have little difficulty in
converting Bridget. But the latter now, besides having once a month an
opportunity of hearing mass,--the new priest, Father Ugo, having made it
a rule to visit the railroad laborers as often as he could, and being
pretty well grounded in the catechism,--in addition to these very
important aids to combat temptation, Bridget had also Murty O'Dwyer, who
was hired in the house, to take up the cudgels for her against Amanda
and Parson Gulmore.

"Prepare, Bridget, to come with me this evening to Sabbath school," said
the persevering Amanda. "I want to show them how well you can read, and
also I want them to admire these nice flowers of your hat, and your
pretty new dress, to see how smart you look."

"Why, miss, if that be all you want, I can't go, for that would be a
sin. Vanity, you know," said the little roguish girl, looking
sarcastically at Amanda.

"I am the best judge of that, missy," said the old maid. "Go on and
prepare: you must come. You are getting very ugly since you got the
habit of seeing that old priest of late."

"I beg your pardon, miss. It is not for the priest's advice I refuse
joining your worship, but because God forbids it and the church. Before
the priest ever came here, I refused, during more than two years, to go
to Protestant meetings or Sunday schools, which cost me many a tear and
a scolding; and the priest's advice has not made me more determined than
I was before never to put my foot inside your ugly meeting house or
Sunday schools."

"If I asked you to go to the priest to pay him a quarter to pardon your
sins, you naughty Irish girl, you," said Amanda, in a passion, "how
readily you would obey me, you naughty thing, you!"

"You're welcome to your joke, miss," answered Bridget; "but if you are
in earnest, I mu