“Wha’ ’d you think o’ dat sermon?” asked Sister Williams of one of her good friends; and the good friend answered,— “Tsch, pshaw! dat man jes’ tuk his tex’ at de fust an’ nevah lef’ it.” Brother Sneedon remarked to a friend: “Well, he did try to use a good deal o’ high langgidge, but whut we want is grace an’ speritual feelin’.” The Williams faction went home with colours flying. They took the preacher to dinner. They were exultant. The friends of Brother Sneedon were silent but thoughtful. It was true, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that the Reverend Elias Smith had made a wonderful impression upon his hearers,—an impression that might not entirely fade away before the night on which the new pastor was to be voted for. Comments on the sermon did not end with the closing of that Sabbath day. The discussion of its excellences was prolonged into the next week, and continued with a persistency dangerous to the aspirations of any rival candidate. No one was more fully conscious of this menacing condition of affairs than Hezekiah Sneedon himself. He knew that for the minds of the people to rest long upon the exploits of Elder Smith would be fatal to the chances of his own candidate; so he set about inventing some way to turn the current of public thought into another channel. And nothing but a powerful agency could turn it. But in fertility of resources Hezekiah Sneedon was Napoleonic. Though his diplomacy was greatly taxed in this case, he came out victorious and with colours flying when he hit upon the happy idea of a “’possum supper.” That would give the people something else to talk about beside the Reverend Elias Smith and his wonderful sermon. But think not, O reader, that the intellect that conceived this new idea was so lacking in the essential qualities of diplomacy as to rush in his substitute, have done with it, and leave the public’s attention to revert to its former object. Brother Sneedon was too wary for this. Indeed, he did send his invitations out early to the congregation; but this only aroused discussion and created anticipation which was allowed to grow and gather strength until the very Saturday evening on which the event occurred. Sister Hannah Williams saw through the plot immediately, but she could not play counter, so she contented herself with saying: “Dat Hezekiah Sneedon is sholy de bigges’ scamp dat evah trod shoe-leathah.” But nevertheless, she did not refuse an invitation to be present at the supper. She would go, she said, for the purpose of seeing “how things went on.” But she added, as a sort of implied apology to her conscience, “and den I’s powahful fond o’ ’possum, anyhow.”