Deacon Moore passed his hat, and when he handed it to Wetmore that worthy soul counted out two large copper pennies. There were also in the hat two brass buttons which Tom, much to Sukey's amusement, had torn from his clothing for the purpose of an offering. Sukey laughed so inordinately at Tom's extravagant philanthropy that she convinced De Triflin' he was a very funny fellow indeed; but she brought upon her pretty flaxen head a reprimand from Wetmore. "Undue levity," said he, "ill becomes even frivolous youth at this moment. Later you will have ample opportunity to indulge your mirth; but for the present, the Lord's business--" at the word "business" he received the hat from Deacon Moore, and looked eagerly into it for the offering. Disappointment, quite naturally, spread itself over his sallow face, and he continued: "Buttons do not constitute an acceptable offering to the Lord. He can have no use for them. I think that during the course of my life work in the vineyard I have received a million buttons of which I--I mean the Lord--can have no possible use. If these buttons had been dollars or shillings, or even pennies, think of the blessings they would have brought from above." The reverend man spoke several times with excusable asperity of "buttons," and after another psalm and a sounding benediction the religious exercises were finished, and the real business of the evening, the spelling-bee and the kissing games, began. At these socials many of the old folks took part in the spelling-bee, after which they usually went home--an event eagerly awaited by the young people. There was but one incident in the spelling-bee that touched our friends, and I shall pass briefly over that part of the entertainment preceding it. The class, ranging in years from those who lisped in youth to those who lisped in age, stood in line against the wall, and Wetmore, spelling-book in hand, stood in front of them to "give out" the words. It was not considered fair to give out a word not in the spelling-book until the spelling and "syllabling" of sentences was commenced. All words were syllabled, but to spell and syllable a sentence was not an easy task, and by the time sentences were reached the class usually had dwindled down to three or four of the best spellers. Of course, one who missed a word left the class. Our friends--Billy Little, Dic, Rita, and Sukey Yates--were in the contest. The first word given out was metropolitan, and it fell to Douglas of the Hill. He began: "M-e-t--there's your met; r-o--there's your ro; there's your metro; p-o-l--there's your pol; there's your ro-pol; there's your met-ro-pol; i--there's your i; there's your pol-i; there's your ro-pol-i; there's your met-ro-pol-i; t-e-n--there's your--" "t-a-n," cried the girl next to him, who happened to be Sukey Yates, and Douglas stepped down and out.