at me with a face resembling a thunder cloud. As I finished the
chorus, he said:

"What are you doing?"

"I am singing," I replied.

"Well," said he, "any fool can understand that."

"I am glad you understand it."

"What are you singing?"

"I am singing the religion of the Lord Jesus."

"Well, you quit."

"Quit what?"

"Quit singing your religion on the cars."

"I guess not," I replied, "I don't belong to the Quit family; my name
is Mead. For the last half hour you have been standing by your master;
now for the next half hour I am going to stand up for my Master."

"Who is my master?"

"The devil is your master--while Christ is mine. I am as proud of my
Master as you are of yours. Now I am going to have my turn, if the
passengers don't object."