rwick
lent it with such generosity that it was out most of the time, and a
good many people had to wait for it. At last there was quite a rivalry
who should have it next, and the folks used to put in their claims
with the owner whenever they had an opportunity.

One day Mr. Smith's wife died, and Mr. Butterwick attended the
funeral. Smith was nearly wild with grief. As the remains were put
into their last resting-place he cried as if his heart would break,
and his friends began to get uneasy about his nervous system.
Presently he took his handkerchief from his eyes for a moment to rub
his nose, and as he did so he saw Butterwick looking at him. A thought
seemed to strike Smith. He dashed away a couple of tears; and stepping
over a heap of loose earth as they began to shovel it in, he grasped
Butterwick by the hand. Butterwick gave him a sympathetic squeeze, and
said,

"Sorry for you, Smith; I am indeed! A noble woman and a good wife. But
bear up under it, bear up! Our loss, you know, is her gain."

"Ah! she was indeed a woman in a thousand," responded Smith; "and
now to think that she has gone--gone, left us for ever! But these
afflictions must not make us forget the duty we owe to the living. She
has passed away from toil and suffering, but we still have much to do;
and, Butterwick, I want to borrow your lawn-mower. If you can fix it
for Tuesday, I think maybe the worst of my anguish will be over."

"You may have it, of course."

"Thank you; oh, thank you! Our friends are a great comfort to us
in the hour of bereavement;" and then Smith gave his arm to his
mother-in-law, put his handkerchief to his eyes and joined the
procession of mourners.

Upon the following Sunday, Rev. Dr. Dox preached a splendid sermon
over in the Free church, and just as he reached "secondly" he paused,
looked around upon the congregation for a minute, and then he beckoned
Deacon Moody to come up to the pulpit. He whispered something in
Moody's ear, and Moody seemed surprised. The congregation was wild
with curiosity to know what was the matter. Then the deacon, blushing
scarlet and seeming annoyed, walked down the aisle and whispered in
Butterwick's ear. Butterwick nodded, and whispered to his wife, who
was perishing to know what it was. She leaned over and communicated it
to Mrs. Bunnel, in the pew in front; and when the Bunnels all had it,
they sent it on to the people next to them, and so before the doctor
reached "thirdly" the whole