“Consarn it!” said the startled hedger, “you gooa off like a popgun, neighbour Hepton. You oppen yer mooth an’ bark, just like a shippard dog. Then you’re toddlin’ yam.” “Hey,” said the carpenter, “but what were you sayin’ about a Methodist chapel at Nestleton?” “Why, nobbut ’at we’re gannin’ te hae yan. Ah reckon you’ll be glad te see it!” “Hey, but ah shan’t see it, till two Sundays come i’ yah week, or till crows begin to whistle ‘Bonnets o’ blue.’” “Jabez Hepton,” said Adam, seriously, “deean’t joke aboot it; ah beleeave it’s God’s will ’at we sud hev a chapel, an’ be t’ help o’ God ah meean te try. T’ wod o’ God’s _God’s Wod_, an’ He says ’ax an’ you sall hev.’ Ah meean te ax, an’ there’ll be a chapel i’ Nestleton a twel’month cum Can’lemas-day. Ah’s an aud fowt, neea doot, an’ monny a yan beside you’ll laugh at ma’. At deean’t care t’ snuff ov a can’le for that. Wi’ God o’ me side, ah isn’t freetened hoo things ’ll turn out. ‘Let God be true, an’ ivvery man a liar.’” There was that in Adam’s tone and manner which conveyed a dignified rebuke to the flippancy of Jabez Hepton, who not only lapsed into silence, but was bound to confess to himself that he was a pigmy in presence of a faith so beautiful and great. “Good-neet, Adam,” said the carpenter, eventually, “Ah only wop your wods ’ll cum true.” “Good-neet, Jabez,” said the old man, “an’ deean’t fo’get te pray for ’t, an’ when yo’ begin, deean’t tire. T’ unjust judge had te give in ’cause t’ poor widow wadn’t let him be, an’ you may depend on’t,” said Adam, reverently, “’at t’ Just Judge weean’t be sae hard te move. We’re His bairns, His aun elect, an’ if we cry day an’ neet tiv Him, He’ll help us speedily. Prayse the Lord! ah’s seear on’t.” Adam Olliver’s beautiful simplicity of trust inoculated Hepton with the same hopeful spirit shown by Mrs. Houston and her daughter, and that worthy man went home to calculate, as he sat in his “ingle nook,” the cost of the chapel, the idea of which he had just met with sarcasm and scorn. Such is the commanding influence of a good example. “Example is a living law, whose sway Men more than all the written laws obey.” CHAPTER IX. THE PROGRESS OF MASTER PHILIP’S WOOING. “Although thou may never be mine, Although even hope is denied; ’Tis sweeter for thee despairing, Than aught in the world beside.” _Burns._