ather, and he approved it warmly.

"I believe your mission isn't done yet, daughter, to these people of your
husband's. The more you speak to 'em the better. It'll be jest like his
voice speaking from heaven to 'em," said Reuben, "an' I shouldn't wonder
if keepin' Elder Williams away was all the Lord's doin', as the blessed
saint used to say."

Reuben's approval was all that Draxy needed to strengthen her impulse, and
before Deacon Swift arrived her only perplexity was as to the best way of
making the proposition to him. All this difficulty he had himself smoothed
away by his first words.

"Yes, I know, Deacon Swift," she said. "I've been thinking that perhaps it
would tire you to read for so long a time in a loud voice; and besides,
Mr. Kinney's handwriting is very hard to read."

Draxy paused and looked sympathizingly in the deacon's face. The mention
of the illegible writing distressed the poor man still more. He took the
sermon from her hand and glanced nervously at the first page.

"Oh my! Mis' Kinney," he exclaimed, "I can't make out half the words."

"Can't you?" said Draxy, gently. "It is all as plain as print to me, I
know it so well. But there are some abbreviations Mr. Kinney always used.
I will explain them to you. Perhaps that will make it easier."

"O Mis' Kinney, Mis' Kinney! I can't never do it in the world," burst out
the poor deacon. "O Mis' Kinney, why can't you read it to the folks?
They'd all like it, I know they would."

"Do you really think so, Mr. Swift?" replied Draxy; and then, with a
little twinge of conscience, added immediately, "I have been thinking of
that very thing myself, that perhaps, if it wouldn't seem strange to the
people, that would be the best way, because I know the handwriting so
well, and it really is very hard for a stranger to read."

"Yes, yes, that's the very thing," hastily exclaimed the relieved
deacon,--"that's it, that's it. Why, Mis' Kinney, as for their thinkin' it
strange, there ain't a man in the parish that wouldn't vote for you for
minister twice over if ye wuz only a man. I've heerd 'em all say so more
'n a thousand times sence." Something in Draxy's face cut the Deacon's
sentence short.

"Very well, Mr. Swift," she said. "Then I will try, since you think it
best. My father thought it would be a good plan too, or else I should not
have been willing," she added, gently.

"Reuben Miller's daughter" was still as guileless, reverent, potent a
thought in