“Old man must hev exhorted pow'ful,” said another, glancing at his disordered Sunday attire. “Ain't be'n hevin' a row with Polly? I'm told she slings an awful left.” Jack, instead of replying, poured out a dram of whiskey, drank it, and putting down his glass, leaned heavily against the counter as he surveyed his questioners with a sorrow chastened by reproachful dignity. “I'm a stranger here, gentlemen,” he said slowly “ye've known me only a little; but ez ye've seen me both blind drunk and sober, I reckon ye've caught on to my gin'ral gait! Now I wanter put it to you, ez fair-minded men, ef you ever saw me strike a parson?” “No,” said a chorus of sympathetic voices. The barkeeper, however, with a swift recollection of Polly and the Reverend Withholder, and some possible contingent jealousy in Jack, added prudently, “Not yet.” The chorus instantly added reflectively, “Well, no not yet.” “Did ye ever,” continued Jack solemnly, “know me to cuss, sass, bully-rag, or say anything agin parsons, or the church?” “No,” said the crowd, overthrowing prudence in curiosity, “ye never did,--we swear it! And now, what's up?” “I ain't what you call 'a member in good standin','” he went on, artistically protracting his climax. “I ain't be'n convicted o' sin; I ain't 'a meek an' lowly follower;' I ain't be'n exactly what I orter be'n; I hevn't lived anywhere up to my lights; but is thet a reason why a parson should strike me?” “Why? What? When did he? Who did?” asked the eager crowd, with one voice. Jack then painfully related how he had been invited by the Reverend Mr. Withholder to attend the Bible class. How he had arrived early, and found the church empty. How he had taken a seat near the door to be handy when the parson came. How he just felt “kinder kam and good,” listenin' to the flies buzzing, and must have fallen asleep,--only he pulled himself up every time,--though, after all, it warn't no crime to fall asleep in an empty church! How “all of a suddent” the parson came in, “give him a clip side o' the head,” and knocked him off the bench, and left him there! “But what did he SAY?” queried the crowd. “Nuthin'. Afore I could get up, he got away.” “Are you sure it was him?” they asked. “You know you SAY you was asleep.” “Am I sure?” repeated Jack scornfully. “Don't I know thet face and beard? Didn't I feel it hangin' over me?” “What are you going to do about it?” continued the crowd eagerly. “Wait till he comes out--and you'll see,” said Jack, with dignity. This was enough for the crowd; they gathered excitedly at the door, where Jack was already standing, looking towards the church. The moments dragged slowly; it might be a long meeting. Suddenly the church door opened and a figure appeared, looking up and down the street. Jack colored--he recognized Polly--and stepped out into the road. The crowd delicately, but somewhat disappointedly, drew back in the saloon. They did not care to interfere in THAT sort of thing.