"Now speak out, Brother Sanders," said the pastor encouragingly, and the kindly voice of the old man gave him fresh strength. "Broth’r’n an’ sist’r’n, it becomes my duty ter tell you o’ the temptations I’ve be’n a-fallin’ under this year, an’ ter ax yer forgiveness an’ yer prayers. I’ve be’n a-wanderin’ fur from the right way. I done er turrible thing ter brother Tom Fannin—took away his good name, an’ made him a byword an’ en example o’ evil among you. Fer the sake o’ one who it ain’t becomin’ in me ter name here, an’ who ain’t ter blame any more’n a innocent child, I ’lowed myself ter hate him—ter wanter cast disfavor ’pon him." He paused, and a pinfall might have been heard in that church, so intensely quiet, so breathless were the excited people. He looked at Tom Fannin leaning forward eagerly on his seat, then his eyes rested for a moment on Bet Crow’s drooping face, and he could almost feel the quick flutter of the pulse in her round soft throat. His eyes sank to the floor; he drew a long breath. "Broth’r’n, this is er public acknowledgment, an’ the solemn, bindin’ truth—I put that money in Tom Fannin’s pocket with my own hands." He said no more, but sat down and hid his face in his hands, and a stir and murmur seemed to sweep over the church like a wave. The agitation, excitement, seemed about to break dignified Christian bounds, when Mr. Jesse Crow rose and solemnly said: "Broth’r’n, we have all heard the public acknowledgments o’ Brother Sanders’s wrong-doin’. He has tole it ’thout bein’ axed, an’ o’ his own free will an’ inclernation. In dealin’ with this errin’ brother we mus’ bear in min’ thar air allus extinguishin’ sarcumstances surroundin’ ever’ deed done by weak mortal creeturs, an’ a confession o’ guilt is er long way to’ards complete repentance." Well, that public confession was the climax of that year of events in the Cool Spring settlement, if I except the wedding at Mr. Jesse Crow’s, later in the season, when house and yard overflowed with guests, and all united in giving a kindly hand and a hearty word to the bridegroom. Bill Sanders was not present. He had gone out West to seek a new home, and let us hope that he was in time as happy as Tom Fannin and his wife, once the belle of Cool Spring settlement—Bet Crow. *SILURY.* *STORY OF A MOONSHINER’S DAUGHTER.* Silury Cole threw a fresh pine-knot on the fire and stepped to the door to peer out into the night, listening intently for the first sound of her father’s footsteps on the hard mountain road. For two days the revenue officers had been abroad on the mountains, and the hearts of women and children were heavy with terror and dread.