He mused for a few moments and then remarked: "If it weren't too late we might make a preacher of you." Mrs.Witherspoon's countenance brightened.

"I am sure he would make a good one," she said.

"My grandfather was a minister, and we have a book of his sermons now, somewhere.

If you want it, my son, I will get it for you." "Not to-night, mother." "I didn't mean to-night.

Ellen, what _are_ you giggling at ?" "Why, mother, he would rather smoke that old black pipe than to read any book that was ever printed." "When I saw the pipe that had robbed Kittymunks of his coat," said Henry, "I thought of my pipe tied with a ribbon." During the remainder of the evening Witherspoon joined not in the conversation, he sat brooding, and when bed-time came, he stood in his accustomed place on the hearth-rug and wound his watch, still appearing to gaze at something far away..