er since he had first begun to come there to see Nancy Fernald, and
both Tomlinson and Fraser heartily liked and respected him--a fact he
understood and was counting on now.

"Wasn't it great, Mr. Tomlinson?" said Sam, enthusiastically.
"Great--Mr. Fraser?" He looked, smiling, into first one austere face and
then the other. Then he gazed straight ahead of him, up at Elder Blake.
"Going up to tell him so? So am I!" He pressed the two arms, continuing
in his friendly way to retain his hold on both. "In all the years I've
gone to church, I've never heard preaching like that. It warmed up my
heart till I thought it would burst--and it made me want to go to work."

Almost without their own volition Tomlinson and Fraser found themselves
proceeding toward the pulpit--yet Sam's hands did not seem to be
exerting any force. The force came from his own vigorous personality,
which was one that invariably inspired confidence. If Burnett was going
up to speak to the Elder, it seemed only proper that they, the leading
men of the church, should go too.

William Sewall, having assured himself that his venerable associate
was not suffering from a more than natural exhaustion after his supreme
effort, stood still by his side, looking out over the congregation.
He now observed an interesting trio approaching the platform, composed
of his valued friend, Samuel Burnett--his fine face alight with his
purpose--and two gray-bearded men of somewhat unpromising exterior, but
plainly of prominence in the church, by the indefinable look of them. He
watched the three climb the pulpit stairs, and come up to the figure in
the chair--Sam, with tact, falling behind.

"You did well, Elder--you did well," said George Tomlinson, struggling
to express himself, and finding only this time-worn phrase. He stood
awkwardly on one foot, before Ebenezer Blake, like an embarrassed
schoolboy, but his tone was sincere--and a trifle husky, on account
of the untimely reappearance of the frog in his throat.

Elder Blake looked up--and William Sewall thought he had never seen a
sweeter smile on a human face, young or old. "You are kind to come and
tell me so, George," said he. "I had thought never to preach again. It
did me good."

"It did us good, sir," said Sam Burnett. He had waited an instant for
Fraser to speak, but saw that the cold in the head was in the ascendancy
again. "It did me so much good that I can hardly wait till I get back to
town to hunt up a man