to unresponsive, gaily-attired Dives under the arches of great
cathedrals.

But the trail of the serpent is everywhere found, even in this
sequestered spot. There was, in the outskirts of the town, the
inevitable rumshop, fed, it was said, by an illicit still in the
woods, and there as usual Satan held high carnival among families
dead in trespasses and sins. There we assayed to hold temperance
prayer-meetings, but they loved darkness rather than light, and we
cast our pearls before swine, who turned and rent us.

On one occasion we tried to hold services in the little old deserted
schoolhouse, and found it, much to our surprise, packed with the
inhabitants of Sodom; a more villainous looking crowd I never saw not
even in darkest New York. Beetle-browed, mop-haired men, whose faces,
if tapped, would apparently give forth as much fire-water as a rum
barrel.

For a short time they listened to the singing: but when the aged
minister attempted with earnest words to inspire to a better life it
seemed as if all the fiends from heaven that fell, had pealed the
banner cry of hell. Then a decayed cabbage struck him full in the
face, ancient and unfragrant turnips and potatoes filled the air, our
little band crowded around to shield him, but unmercifully assailed,
we were obliged to wield the chairs vigorously over their heads to
fight our way to the door.

One of our number left to guard the sleigh, luckily had it ready, in
we jumped and drove for our lives, pursued by invectives too horrible
to mention.