At the beginning of the sermon a slight rustling attracted Joseph Smiley's attention. He looked up and beheld Tibbie Tirpie taking her seat on the outskirts of the crowd. She was accompanied by a young woman who leant on her arm and appeared delicate and pale till she caught sight of Joseph, when her cheeks became suffused with crimson, and she bent down her head. A look of annoyance came into his sharp, squirrel-like eyes, but he passed his hand across his mouth, which appeared to act like the wet sponge over a much be-written slate, and left it blank and sober as before. There were four babies to be baptized at the conclusion of the sermon, and during the singing of a hymn, Joseph, as master of the ceremonies, proceeded to the clump of hazel bushes and thence ushered three well pleased mothers, each with her latest born held proudly in her arms. As struts the brood hen before her chippering train, calling the universe to witness the last new life added to the mighty sum by her praiseworthy exertions, so sailed these worthy women behind the beadle, and took their places with rustle and importance in front of the congregation. The husband of each came diffidently behind, and stood in front of his proprietress, tall, awkward, and a little shame-faced before all the people, the length of leg and arm appearing sadly in its owner's way, and the hands especially difficult to dispose of. Behind the matrons came Mary Brown, carrying the little waif rescued by her brother from the sea, Roderick himself bringing up the rear. Their appearance created a sensation, and a hum of enquiry ran through the congregation, for many were as yet ignorant of the addition to the minister's family. Mary gave her own name to the little one, and Roderick presented it for baptism as the several sires presented theirs, vowing to bring it up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.