'Bud, Mr. Penrose, I'd a wurr trouble than oather o' those I've towd yo' on. A twothree year sin' I wor a reprobate. I don't know how it coom abaat, but somehaa I geet fond o' drink, and I tuk to stopping aat late, and comin' wom' rough like, and turnin' agen th' missus. They coom up to see me from Rehoboth, and owd Mr. Morell prayed wi' me; but it wor all no use. Th' devil hissel wor in me. They say, Mr. Penrose, as yo' durnd believe in a devil; that yo' co evil a principle or summat of that sort. If thaa'd bin like me thaa'd hev no doubts abaat a devil. I've felt him in me, an' I've felt him tak' howd o' me and do as he'd a mind wi' me. One day, when they'd crossed mi name off th' Rehoboth register, and th' missus were sobbin' fit to break her heart, aw coom across th' owd flute as aw were rootin' in a box for some medicine. There it lay, long forgetten. As aw seed it, tears coom in my een. Aw thought haa it bed helped mi when I lost o' mi brass, and when Joe deed, and aw tuk it up and said, "Can ta help me naa, thinksto?" An' aw put it together, and went aat on th' moors and began to play; and fro' that hour to this aw've never wanted to sup a drop o' drink. Naa, Mr. Penrose, yo' preachers talk abaat th' Cross, and it's o' reet that yo' should; but yo' cannot blame me for talkin' abaat my flute, con yo', when it's bin my salvation? And whenever awm a bit daanhearted, or hardhearted, or fratchy wi' th' missus, or plaguey wi' fo'k, aw goes to th' owd flute, and it helps me o'er th' stile. But it's gettin' lat'; let's be goin' wom'.' Arriving at the cottage, Enoch told his wife how he had given Mr. Penrose the history of his old flute, whereupon the good woman wept and said: 'Him and me, Mr. Penrose, has many a time supped sorrow, but th' owd flute has awlus sweetened aar cup, hesn't it, Enoch?' 'Yi, lass, it awlus hes.' That night, before Mr. Penrose left the moorland cottage of the Ashworths, old Enoch took up the flute tenderly, and, with a far-off look in his eyes, commenced to play a plaintive air, which the old woman told Mr. Penrose was to 'their Joe,' who was 'up aboon wi' Jesus.' And as the minister descended the brow towards his own home, the sweet, sad music continued to fall in dying strains upon his ears; and that night, and many a night afterwards, did he vex his brain to find out why redemption should be wrought out by a flute, when the creed of Rehoboth was powerless. II. THE MONEY-LENDER. 1. THE UTTERMOST FARTHING. 2. THE REDEMPTION OF MOSES FLETCHER. 3. THE ATONEMENT OF MOSES FLETCHER. I. THE UTTERMOST FARTHING. 'Well! yo' and Jim may do as yo' like--but I'm noan baan to turn aat o' th' owd Fold till I'm ta'en aat feet fermost.' 'Nay, gronny--don't tak' on so. Yo' cornd ston' agen law as haa it be; a writ is a writ, and if yo' hevn't got brass it's no use feightin'.' 'A, lass! I'm feared thaa's reet--naa-a-days them as has most gets most, and their own way i' th' bargain.'