"And the closest," I added, with a touch of asperity. "To be quite frank with _you_, Mr. Hughes, I didn't take much stock in your predecessor, or I might have given more; but now I may perhaps feel differently. You make Bunce and Lemon attend to their own beams, and I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll--" Again that falsetto cough from the next room checked my flow of speech. I had completely forgotten Marion, having become so absorbed in my part. "Well?" he asked expectantly. I glanced around nervously and lowered my voice almost to a whisper. "I'll give as much cash as I gave before; besides, I'll give half my crop." "Half your crop!" he exclaimed in amazement. "Half--my--crop," I solemnly asserted; "if you care to send for it. Perhaps you could get Bunce and Lemon to team the produce to market?" "I'll attend to that," he responded cheerfully. "I'll get up a bee, and lend a hand myself. I hope,--ho, ho, ho!--that you will have a large crop. What do you propose to grow next year?" "Well, I--I haven't quite decided." "Considering that I have a half-interest, let me suggest potatoes." "Potatoes!" I exclaimed. "Why, they're not worth digging this year--fifteen cents a bag!" The minister laughed. "Ninety-nine farmers out of a hundred will reason in the same way," he said; "then the crop will be short and the prices high. Be the hundredth man, and plant potatoes." I thanked him for the advice, which seemed to me to be excellent. He rose to go, then placed his hand affectionately on my shoulder. "Keep your pew," he said, "and leave me to settle with Brothers Bunce and Lemon; but if, as a favor to me, you could keep from--_going to sleep_?----" I could not resist the urgent friendliness of his appeal. "Mr. Hughes," I responded, "I can promise never to close my eyes while listening to your sermons; more than that, I'll see that Bunce and Lemon keep awake also."