s, and yet be so
near, the pleasant garden of the Adversary, that his dangerous fruits
and flowers are within easy reach. Once tasted, the next step is like
to be the scaling of the wall. The Rev. Mr. Stoker was very fond of this
border land. His imagination was wandering over it too often when his
pen was travelling almost of itself along the weary parallels of the
page before him. All at once a blinding flash would come over him the
lines of his sermon would run together, the fresh manuscript would
shrivel like a dead leaf, and the rows of hard-hearted theology on the
shelves before him, and the broken-backed Concordance, and the Holy Book
itself, would fade away as he gave himself up to the enchantment of his
delirious dream.

The reader will probably consider it a discreet arrangement that pretty
Susan Posey should seek her pastor in grave company. Mrs. Hopkins
willingly consented to the arrangement which had been proposed, and
agreed to go with the young lady on her visit to the Rev. Mr. Stoker's
study. They were both arrayed in their field-day splendors on this
occasion. Susan was lovely in her light curls and blue ribbons, and the
becoming dress which could not help betraying the modestly emphasized
crescendos and gently graded diminuendos of her figure. She was as round
as if she had been turned in a lathe, and as delicately finished as if
she had been modelled for a Flora. She had naturally an airy toss of the
head and a springy movement of the joints, such as some girls study in
the glass (and make dreadful work of it), so that she danced all over
without knowing it, like a little lively bobolink on a bulrush. In
short, she looked fit to spoil a homily for Saint Anthony himself.

Mrs. Hopkins was not less perfect in her somewhat different style. She
might be called impressive and imposing in her grand-costume, which she
wore for this visit. It was a black silk dress, with a crape shawl, a
firmly defensive bonnet, and an alpaca umbrella with a stern-looking and
decided knob presiding as its handle. The dried-leaf rustle of her silk
dress was suggestive of the ripe autumn of life, bringing with it those
golden fruits of wisdom and experience which the grave teachers of
mankind so justly prefer to the idle blossoms of adolescence.

It is needless to say that the visit was conducted with the most perfect
propriety in all respects. Mrs. Hopkins was disposed to take upon
herself a large share of the conversation.