is, it is your duty to expose him."

The Rev. James took up the task eagerly. Leaving the buggy in charge of a
small boy, the two gentle men joined the crowd, and James soon recognised
that the speaker was delivering something very like a sermon of his own,
but seasoning it with a sort of quaint, insolent humour, that suited the
tastes of his hearers admirably. The crowd laughed and applauded.

"Brothers and sisters," said the speaker, "I have shown you that these
young men must be divorced from the long-sleever, and rescued from the
lures of the plump, peroxided barmaid, and the blandishments of Bung, the
reprobate who runs the pub. I have shown you they must be turned from the
joys of the 'pushes,' tobacco chewing, and stoushing in offensive
Chinamen with bricks, and now I appeal to you for the means of doing
things. Money is said to be the root of all evil, but it is also the
means of much good. If we want to go to heaven, we must pay the tram
fare. He who gives quickly gives twice, but it is better still to give
twice and to give quickly."

As he spoke he moved among the people, taking up a collection in his hat,
and the people responded liberally. He returned to his little eminence,
and the Rev. James Nippit forced his way through the crowd, and
confronted him, flushed, furious, over flowing.

"So," said James, "this is the reward of my kindness? This--"

Nickie was silent for a moment--for the preacher was Nicholas Crips,
garbed in an old suit of his master's--then he turned calmly and said:

"This gentleman, brothers and sisters, is the Reverend James Nippit, the