to an' jest
ready to grab, the next we know we've stumbled inter a ditch.

"And then we borrer trouble, heaps on't, all through life. From the day
we git scared at thought o' speakin' pieces at school, till the doctor
shakes his head an' asks us if we've got our will made, we are dreadin'
suthin'. If 'taint sickness or bein' robbed, it's worryin' 'bout our
nabors havin' more'n we do. The feller courtin' worries for fear the gal
won't say 'yes,' an' when she does he is likely to see the time he
wishes she hadn't, an' worries 'cause he's got her. We worry ourselves
old 'n' wrinkled 'n' gray, an' then, more'n all this world, worry 'bout
the next. An' thar's whar the parson 'n' I allus split tacks. He says
the Lord made the brimstone lake fer sinners, 'n' I say the Lord made
conscience as a means o' torture, an' here or hereafter it's hot 'nuff."

And here it must be inserted that Jess was to a certain extent a thorn
in the parson's side, from the fact that his influence and following
were stronger than that worthy man's. It was what Jess believed and
said that was quoted rather than the parson's assertions; and although
Jess seldom failed to be one of his listeners, and contributed more than
any five or ten others toward his scant salary, there were times when he
was made to feel that if Jess occupied the pulpit the church would be
packed. And so it would, humiliating as that fact was to him.

And here also may be related an incident in Rockhaven history which
illustrates how slim a hold the parson and his preaching had upon those
islanders. As it happened that year, mackerel were late in reaching the
coast. The price was correspondingly high, and Rockhaven's band of
fishermen eager to make the first haul. Most of them attended church,
but now, while the suspense was on, when Sunday came, two or three
watchers were stationed on convenient cliffs with orders to report to
the church if a school was sighted.

This was kept up for three weeks, and then, one Sunday, just as the
first morning hymn in long metre had been sung, and the parson, with
closed eyes, had got well started in his prayer, down through the
village street bounded one of those sentinels, yelling, "Mack'rel,
mack'rel, millions on 'em!"

And in less than five minutes there wasn't a man, woman, or child left
in the church except Jess Hutton and the parson. And when that good man
had said "Amen," Jess arose and suggested they too follow the crowd.

"Ye migh