holiday finery, the women were shabby and the men were careworn. The minister
himself, white-bearded and gray-haired, showed more signs of spiritual grace
than intellectual strength.

One woman, fresh and bright as a butterfly, appeared among them, and Eliph'
Hewlitt knew her at once as a city dweller, who had somehow got into this dull
and hard-working community. Almost at the same moment she noticed him, and
approached him. She smiled kindly and extended her hand.

"Won't you come in?" she asked. "I don't seem to remember your face, but we
would be glad to have you join us."

Eliph' Hewlitt shook his head.

"No'm," he said sadly. "I'd better not come in. Not that I don't want to, but I
wouldn't be welcome. There ain't anything I like so much as church picnics, and
when I was a boy I used to cry for them, but I wouldn't dare join you. I'm a"--
he looked around cautiously, and said in a whisper--"I'm a book agent."

The lady laughed.

"Of course," she said, "that DOES make a difference; but you needn't be a book
agent to-day. You can forget it for a while and join us."

Eliph' Hewlitt shook his head again.

"That's it," he said. "That's just the reason. I CAN'T forget it. I try to, but
I can't. Just when I don't want to, I break out, and before I know it I've sold
everybody a book, and then I feel like I'd imposed on good nature. They take me
in as a friend and then I sell 'em a copy of Jarby's 'Encyclopedia of Knowledge