"She stopped and looked at me, then she says in a scart whisper,
'Are you _really_ the Reverend Silas Hardcrop?'

"'I'm just as near bein' the Reverend Silas Hardcrop as I shall
ever get,' says I.

"There come a twinkle of somethin' almost like fun in her eye. 'I
told them.' says she, 'that you would address them at seven, sharp.'

"She and me an Jimmy finished Jimmy's lunch and sat around, whilst
I told 'em anecdotes concernin' life as it was lived outside the
bonds of Oggsouash, till quarter to seven rolled around. Then we
took the back way to the church.

"I don't think it has ever been my privilege to gaze on one hundred
and fifty faces all so astonished at one and the same time as when
I stepped forward to the center of the stage at Oggsouash and
addressed the meetin', me bein' clad as Santy Claus, in flowin'
white whiskers, hair to match. Jimmy's coat that come down almost
to my waist, a baggage-truck of toys behind me, and a gun in each
hand.

"'Dearly beloved brethren,' says I, 'I shall try to interest you
for a few minutes, and I urge and beg and pray of you that if any
male member of your number here assembled feels in any way nervous
or fidgety during the course of my remarks that he will conceal it
with all possible haste and discreshun, because otherwise I ain't
goin' to have the bill for the consequences in my mail.

[Illustration: "'Dearly beloved brethren,' says I."]