please.

"Your dutiful son, JOHN MEADOWS"


"Here, Hannah," cried the old woman to a neighbor's daughter that was
nearly always with her.

Hannah, a comely girl of fourteen, came running in.

"Here's John wants me to go over to his house. Get me the pen and ink,
girl, out of the cupboard, and I'll write him a word or two any
way.--Is there anything amiss?" said she quickly to the man.

"He came in with the black mare all in a lather, just after dinner,
and he hasn't spoke to a soul since. That's all I know, missus. I
think something has put him out, and he isn't soon put out, you know,
he isn't."

Hannah left the room, after placing the paper as she was bid.

"You will all be put out that trust to an arm of flesh, all of ye,
master or man, Dick Messenger," said the disciple of John Wesley
somewhat grimly. "Ay, and be put out of the kingdom of heaven, too, if
ye don't take heed."

"Is that the news I'm to take back to Farnborough, missus?" said
Messenger with quiet, rustic irony.

"No; I'll write to him."