"Our ministers have a different way of patching up old sermons; but
I'm not quite sure about their mode of getting them," the young man
replies, takes Deacon Rosebrook's arm, and walks ahead.

"The Elder must conform to the doctrines of the South; but they say
he bets at the race-course, which is not an uncommon thing for our
divines," rejoins the Deacon, facetiously.

The Elder, becoming seriously inclined, thinks gentlemen had better
avoid personalities. Personalities are not tolerated in the South,
where gentlemen are removed far above common people, and protect
themselves by the code duello. He will expose Marston.

Marston's good capon sides are proof against jokes. He may crack on,
that individual says.

"My friend," interposed the Elder, "you desired me to preach to your
niggers in one style and for one purpose,-according to the rule of
labour and submission. Just such an one as your niggers would think
the right stripe, I preached, and it made your niggers wonder and
gape. I'll pledge you my religious faith I can preach a different-"

"Oh! oh! oh! Elder," interrupted Marston, "pledge something
valuable."

"To me, my faith is the most sacred thing in the world. I will-as I
was going to say-preach to your moulding and necessities. Pay for
it, and, on my word, it shall be in the cause of the South! With the
landmarks from my planter customers, I will follow to their liking,"
continues Elder Pemberton Praiseworthy, not a smile on his hard