dollars," pledging Brother Jones, as he had pledged the others, not
to reveal his name until it was time to pay.

Some weeks afterward, a clergyman stepped into my friend's
counting-room, and after smilingly introducing himself, produced
that identical subscription list.

"Mr. K.," said he, "I hope you will pardon the liberty, but I have
set on foot a little scheme to erect a new church for our
congregation, and three of the brethren have subscribed handsomely.
Would you mind doing something to help along the good work?"

My friend glanced over his spectacles at the proffered paper. He
rose in his wrath! He towered! Seizing a loaded pen he dashed at
that fair sheet and scrabbled thereon in raging characters,
"Impenitent Sinner--Not one cent, by G--!"

After a brief explanatory conference, the minister thoughtfully went
his way. That struggling congregation still worships devoutly in its
original, unpretending temple. A Tale of the Great Quake.

One glorious morning, after the great earthquake of October 21,
1868, had with some difficulty shaken me into my trousers and boots,
I left the house. I may as well state that I left it immediately,
and by an aperture constructed for another purpose. Arrived in the
street, I at once betook myself to saving people. This I did by
remarking closely the occurrence of other shocks, giving the alarm
and setting an example fit to be followed. The example was followed,
but owing to the vigour with which it was set was seldom overtaken.
In passing down Clay-street I observed an old rickety brick