“So I went on and finished the sermon, or lectur’ ruther, and then I ses, ‘The choir will please sing the hymn beginnin’ “Give, give, give to the needy,” arter which I will pass around amongst the congregation and take up a collection for the benefit of the heathen in furrin parts.’ “Je-whitteker! You ought to have seen ’em turn around and look at each other when I said that. I can’t describe it to you. I can’t do the scene justiss. If I had told ’em I was goin’ to stay with them through the season, I could hardly have started ’em to thinkin’ any more than I did by tellin’ ’em about that collection for the heathen in furrin parts. “Arter two or three attempts the singin’ began. I closed my eyes, and leanin’ back in my chair minister-like, commenced to estimate the probable yield of each pew. While I was thinkin’ thar, and cal’latin’ how much I would make by the preachin’ business, I noticed the singin’ dyin’ out, and a dyin’ out slowly like, as the prisoner said his hopes were when the sheriff was a-fumblin’ around his neck adjustin’ the rope. So I opened my eyes easy like, as though comin’ back to earthly scenes reluctantly, and you can water my whiskey if I wasn’t just in time to see ole Ned Scullet’s coat-tails whiskin’ around the door jamb, the hindmost rag of the congregation. Women and children and all were gone sure enough. On lookin’ out of the winder I see ’em a-scatterin’ and a-hustlin’ and elbowin’ themselves ahead of each other along the turnpike, as though thar was great danger in bein’ left behind. “Would you believe it, thar was that plaguey shirk Gil Bizby a-cranin’ up the hill a-leadin’ the crowd. I sat thar a while lookin’ after ’em and then, comin’ down I began to look around a little, and pooty soon I noticed that several of ’em left thar hats, they were in such a hurry to git out. So I selected a good one, only ’twas a little out of fashion, and puttin’ it on I ses to myself, ‘If you think I’m interested enough in your welfare here or hereafter to preach to you for nothin’, you’re mistaken, I reckon.’ With that I walked out, but not until I had kicked the remainin’ hats around the room pooty lively. “The next day I noticed an old feller with a dilapidated beaver on, that looked as if it had done duty on a scarecrow for several seasons, sidlin’ up to me, and circlin’ around two or three times lookin’ mi’ty close at my tile. I’ll allers think it was his stove-pipe, but he was too much ashamed to come right out and lay claim to it. “But that Gil Bizby! I didn’t wonder so much at the congregation dustin’, arter all, cause they didn’t know me, but _he_!—well, no matter, I’ll git even on him yet.” [Illustration] THE POISONED PET.