his utter inability to sing. Frolicsome spring lambs amused themselves
by butting each other off a low stump down in the old Gramps cow
pasture.

The Church itself showed signs of dilapidation. The belfry on the roof
had been torn away and the old rusty bell, silent for many years, stood
exposed to the ravages of summer and winter. Its only purpose now seemed
to be to afford a shelter for the wasps which from year to year built
their nests in its dome. The brick chimney, which projected from the
roof near the rear of the building, had lost its crowning bricks and
presented a very jagged aspect. For the accommodation of the squirrels
who were accustomed to take up winter quarters in the attic of the
church, the wood-peckers had pecked numerous holes in the paintless
walls. The eaves were daubed with mud carried by the pewees in the
building of their yearly nests. Bats, at their own good pleasure, came
in and out through the paneless windowsashes and found daytime repose on
top of the sagging beam which, just above the windows, spanned the room.

The physical condition of this Church house formed a fitting counterpart
to the spiritual condition of the people who worshipped (?) there.
Physical, spiritual, and moral spelled the trinity of its decay.

Preacher Bonds' sermon that morning ran something like this: "Twenty
years ago I came to this country. Well do I remember the first few
months after landing here. Some of the older members will recall the
mighty religious fight that was just beginning in those days between the
holiness heresy and the doctrines of the Bible as believed in by this
church. Those few who are here this morning who have known me and have
been my co-workers throughout these years, I am sure, testify to the
steadfastness with which I have stood by the work. I said when I came