muscular man, with the long, white hair, who Sunday after Sunday walked
slowly up the middle aisle to his accustomed seat before the altar, and
who regularly passed the contribution box, bowing involuntarily in token
of approbation when a neighbor's gift was larger than its wont, and
gravely dropping in his own ten cents--never more, never less--always
ten cents--his weekly offering, which he knew amounted in a year to just
five dollars and twenty cents. And still Uncle Ephraim was not stingy,
as the Silverton poor could testify, for many a load of wood and bag of
meal found entrance to the doors where cold and hunger would have
otherwise been, while to his minister he was literally a holder up of
the weary hands, and a comforter in the time of trouble.

His helpmeet, Aunt Hannah, like that virtuous woman mentioned in the
Bible, was one "who seeketh wool and flax, and worketh willingly with
her hands, who riseth while yet it is night, and giveth meat to her
household." Indeed, for this last stirring trait Aunt Hannah was rather
famous, especially on Monday mornings, when her washing was invariably
swinging on the line ready to greet the rising sun.

Miss Betsy Barlow, too, the deacon's maiden sister, was a character in
her way, and was surely not one of those vain, frivolous females to whom
the Apostle Paul had reference when he condemned the plaiting of hair
and the wearing of gold and jewels. Quaint, queer and simple-hearted,
she had but little idea of any world this side of heaven, except the one
bounded by the "huckleberry" hills and the crystal waters of Fairy Pond,
which from the back door of the farmhouse were plainly seen, both in the
summer sunshine and when the intervening fields were covered with the
winter snow.

The home of such a trio was, like themselves, ancient and unpretentious,