practice forty years, and I have never seen a case of that kind yet.
That's all. I'm in a hurry,--got half a dozen people to see. Don't feel
offended at anything I've said to you. It's all for your good, you
know. Good day."

The doctor departed as rapidly as he had entered, and the cobbler stole
a moment or two from his work to think. How his thoughts ran he could
scarcely have told afterwards, for again the door opened, and the room
darkened slightly, for the person who was entering was Father Black,
the Catholic priest, a man whose frame was as big as his heart, he
being reputed to be one of the largest-hearted men in all Bruceton.
Everybody respected him. The best proof of it was that no one in any of
the other churches ever attempted to do any proselyting in Father
Black's flock.

"My son," said the priest, seating himself in the chair and spreading a
friendly smile over his large, expressive features, "I have heard a
great deal of you since you came back from your unfortunate absence,
and I merely dropped in to say to you that if it's any comfort to you
to know that every day you have whatever assistance there can be in the
prayers of an old man who has been in this world long enough to love
most those who need most, you may be sure that you have them."

"God bless you, sir! God bless you!" said the cobbler, quickly.

"Have you connected yourself with any church here as yet?" asked the
priest.

"No, sir," sighed the cobbler: "one an' another has been pullin' an'
haulin' at me one way an' another, tellin' me that it was my duty to go