"Yes," said Sam, interrupting the speaker, "an' I guess a good many of
them were as bad off as me, because, if you remember, He said a good
deal about them that was in prison an' that was visited there. Now,
sir, it kind o' seems to me in this town--I think I know a good deal
about it, because I've never been able to associate with anybody except
folks like myself--it seems to me that sort of people don't get any
sort of attention nowadays."

The minister assumed his conventional air of dignity, and replied,
quickly,--

"I assure you, you are very much mistaken, so far as I am concerned. I
think I know them all by name, and have made special visits to all of
them, and tried to make them feel assured of the sympathy of those who
by nature or education or circumstance chance to be better off than
they."

"That ain't exactly what I meant, sir," said the cobbler. "Such folks
get kind words pretty often, but somehow nobody ever takes hold of them
an' pulls them out of the hole they are in, like Jesus used to seem to
do. I s'pose ministers an' deacons an' such folks can't work miracles
like He did, an' if they haven't got it in 'em to pull 'em out, why, I
s'pose they can't do it. But I do assure you, sir, that there's a good
deal of chance to do that kind of work in this town, an' if there had
been any of it done when I was a boy, I don't believe I'd ever have
got into the penitentiary."

Just then Dr. Brice, one of the village physicians, dropped into the
shop, and the minister, somewhat confused, arose, and said,--