"My gray suit, and tan shoes, and the green tie with the purple spots on it." "Who'll be the first to sit down to the table?" "Search me--maybe I will, if there's good eats." "Nonsense! You must wait for Mrs. Maxwell and the rector to be seated first." "Well," Nickey exclaimed in exasperation, "I'm bound to make some horrible break anyway, so don't you worry, ma. It seems to me from what them books say, that when you go visitin' you've got to tell lies like a sinner; and you can't tell the truth till you get home with the door shut. I never was good at lyin'; I always get caught." "It isn't exactly lyin', Nickey; its just sayin' nice things, and keepin' your mouth shut about the rest. Now suppose you dropped a fork under the table, what'd you say?" "I'd say ''scuse me, Mrs. Maxwell, but one of the forks has gone, and you can go through my clothes if you want to before I go home.'" "Hm!" Hepsey remarked dryly, "I guess the less you say, the better." Arrived at the rectory, Nickey felt under some restraint when they first sat down to the supper table; but under the genial manner of Mrs. Maxwell he soon felt at his ease, and not even his observant mother detected any dire breach of table etiquette. His conversation was somewhat spare, his attention being absorbed and equally divided between observation of his host and consumption of the feast set before him. With sure tact, Mrs. Betty--though regarding Nickey as the guest of honor--that evening--deferred testing the results of his conversational studies until after supper: one thing at once, she decided, was fair play. After the meal was over, they repaired together to the parlor, and while Hepsey took out her wash-rag knitting and Maxwell smoked his cigar, Mrs. Betty gave Nickey her undivided attention. In order to interest the young people of the place in the missionary work of the parish, Mrs. Betty had organized a guild of boys who were to earn what they could towards the support of a missionary in the west. The Guild had been placed under the fostering care and supervision of Nickey as its treasurer, and was known by the name of "The Juvenile Band of Gleaners." In the course of the evening Mrs. Maxwell took occasion to inquire what progress they were making, thereby unconsciously challenging a somewhat surprising recountal. "Well," Nickey replied readily, "we've got forty-six cents in the treasury; that's just me, you know; I keep the cash in my pants pocket." Then he smiled uneasily, and fidgeted in his chair. There was something in Nickey's tone and look that excited Mrs. Betty's curiosity, and made his mother stop knitting and look at him anxiously over her glasses. "That is very good for a start," Mrs. Betty commended. "How did you raise all that, Nickey?" For a moment Nickey colored hotly, looked embarrassed, and made no reply. Then mustering up his courage, and laughing, he began: