“Kind of zealous, like the Apostle Paul supplying the pulpit to the Gentiles,” said the Deacon; “won't let alone of a man, till he gives in 't the Hebrew's in the wrong.” “But I 've nothing to say,” said Captain Bennett. “Oh, no, nor I,” said Uncle Silas. From the distance, borne on the gentle breeze, a click as even as a pulse-beat came faintly over the water. “He may be a good-hearted fellow,” said the Deacon, “but I don't know as I hanker to be the man that's pulling that skiff. But then,--that may be simply and solely because I prefer a hair-cloth rocker to a skiff.” “Delia,” said David Prince to his wife, one afternoon, “Calvin Green has bought four tickets to that stereopticon show that's going to be in the West Church to-night, and he gave me two, for you and me.” “I don't want his tickets,” she replied, ironing away at the sunny window. “Now, what's the use of talking that way?” said her husband, “as much as to say--” “I have my opinion,” she said. “Well,” said her husband, “I think it's a hard way to use a man, just because he happened to be by when I lost my money.” “I 'll tell you,” said Delia, stopping her work; “we will go, and all I 'll say is this--you see if after the lecture's over he does n't find a text in it to talk about our money. Now, you just wait and see--that's all.” ***** “Ladies and gentlemen,” said the lecturer, standing by a great circle of light thrown on the wall, behind the pulpit, “I have now, with a feeling of awe befitting this sacred place, thus given you, in the first part of my lecture, a succinct view of the origin, rise, and growth of the globe on which, as the poet has justly said, 'we dwell.' I have shown you--corroborating Scripture--the earth, without form and void, the awful monsters of the Silurian age, and Man in the Garden of Eden. “I now invite you to journey with me--as one has said--'across the continent.' “Travelling has ever been viewed as a means of education. Thus Athenian sages sought the learning of the Orient. Thus may we this evening, without toil or peril, or expense beyond the fifteen cents already incurred for the admission-fee, journey in spirit from the wild Atlantic to the sunset coast. In the words of the sacred lyrist, Edgar A. Poe, 'My country, 't is of thee,' that I shall now display some views. “Of course we start from Boston. On the way to New York, we will first pause to view the scene where Putnam galloped down a flight of steps, beneath the hostile fire. See both mane and coat-tails flying in the wind, and the eyes of steed and rider wildly dilated with excitement. “Next we pause in Brooklyn. And from my immense variety of scenes in the City of Churches, I choose the firemen's monument in Greenwood Cemetery. 'Here they lie low who raised their ladders high; Here they still live,--for heroes cannot die!' [A voice: “How many are buried there?”] “I should say, at a venture, eighteen. [A rustle of sympathy among the women.]