“By all means; that will be the best way of making friends again. I need not tell you that a jail could not go on in which the governor and the chaplain did not pull together. The fact is, Mr. Jones, the clergy, of late, have been assuming a little too much, and that has made the laity a little jealous. Now, although you are a clergyman, you are her majesty's servant so long as you are here, and must co-operate with the general system of the jail. Come, sir, you are younger than I am; let me give you a piece of advice, 'DON'T OVERSTEP YOUR DUTY,' etc.” In this strain Mr. Williams buz, buz, buzzed longer than I can afford him paper, it is so dear. He pumped a stream of time-honored phrases on his hearer, and dissolved away with him as the overflow of a pump carries away a straw on its shallow stream down a stable-yard. When the pump was pumped dry he stopped. Then the chaplain, who had listened with singular politeness, got in a word. “You forget, sir, I have resigned the chaplaincy of the jail?” “Oh! ah! yes! well, then, I need say no more; good-day, Mr. Jones.” “Good-morning, sir.” Soon after this up came Hawes with a cheerful countenance. “Well, parson, are you to manage the prisoners and I to preach to them, or are we to go on as we are?” “Things are to go on as they are, Mr. Hawes; but that is nothing to me, I have discharged my conscience. I have remonstrated against the seventies practiced on our prisoners. COLD WATER HAS BEEN THROWN ON MY REMONSTRANCES, and I shall therefore interfere no more.” “That is the wise way to look at it, you may depend!” “We shall see which was in the right. I have discharged my conscience. But, Mr. Hawes, I am hurt you should say I preached a sermon against you.” “I dare say you are, sir, but who began it; if you had not talked of complaining to the justices of me, I should never have said a word against you.” “That is all settled; but it is due to my character to show you that I had no intention of pointing at you or any living creature from the pulpit.” “Well, make me believe that.” “If you will do me the favor to come to my room I can prove it to you.” The chaplain took the governor to his room and opened two drawers in a massive table. “Mr. Hawes,” said he, “do you see this pile of sermons in this right-hand drawer?” “I see them,” said Hawes, with a doleful air, “and I suppose I shall hear some of them before long.” “These,” said Mr. Jones, smiling with perfect good-humor at the innocuous sneer, “are sermons I composed when I was curate of Little-Stoke. Of late I have been going regularly through my Little-Stoke discourses, as you may see. I take one from the pile in this drawer, and after first preaching it in the jail I place it in the left drawer on that smaller pile.” “That you mayn't preach it again by accident; well, that is business.”