should advise the feller that thought that he had that kind of a call to
'beware of imitations,' as the soap folks advertise."

"Eri, I've got a call."

"Now, John Baxter, you listen. You and me have been sailin' together, as
you might say, for forty odd years. I ain't a religious man 'cordin' to
your way of thinkin', but I've generally found that the Lord runs things
most as well as us folks could run 'em. When there's a leak at one end
of the schooner it don't pay to bore a hole at the other end to let the
water out. Don't you worry no more about Web Saunders and that billiard
saloon. The s'lectmen 'll attend to them afore very long. Why don't you
go up to Boston for a couple of weeks? 'Twill do you good."

"Do you think so, Eri? Well, maybe 'twould--maybe 'twould. Sometimes I
feel as if my head was kind of wearin' out. I'll think about it."

"Better not think any more; better go right ahead."

"Well, I'll see. Good-night."

"Good-night, John."


"Perez," said Captain Eri, next day, "seems to me some kinds of religion
is like whisky, mighty bad for a weak head. I wish somebody 'd invent a
gold cure for Come-Outers."