"Bless yo' h'art--that's right. I know'd you'd quit yo' mischeev'us ways an' come in--an' I honor you fur it, Archie B.--praise the Lord!" Archie B. still stood pensive and sobered: "But a thing happened to-day, Bishop, an' it's worryin' me very much. It makes me think, perhaps--I--ain't--ain't worthy of--the bestowal of--the grace--you know, the kind I heard you speak of?" "Tell me, Archie B., lad--an' I'll try to enlighten you in my po' way." "Well, now; it's this--jes' suppose you wus goin' along now--say to school, an' seed a dorg, say his name was Bonaparte, wantin' to eat up a little monkey; an' a lot of fellers, say like Jud Carpenter an' Billy Buch, a-bettin' he cu'd do it in ten minutes an' a-sickin' him on the po' little monkey--this big savage dorg. An' suppose now you feel sorry for the monkey an' somethin'--you can't tell what--but somethin' mighty plain tells you the Lord wus on the monkey's side--so plain you cu'd read it--like it told David--an' the dorg wus as mean an' bostful as Goliath wus--" "Archie B., my son, I'd a been fur the monkey, I sho' would," said the Bishop impressively. Archie B. smiled: "Bishop, you've called my hand--I _wus_ for that monkey." The old man smiled approvingly: "Good--good--Archie B." "Now, what happened? I'm mighty inter'sted--oh, that is good. I'm bettin' the monkey downed him, the Lord bein' on his side." "But, s'pose furst," went on Archie B. argumentatively, "that you wanted to give some money fur a little church that you wanted to j'ine--up on the mountain side, a little po'-fo'k church, that depended on charity--" "I understan's, I understan's, Archie B., that wus the Lord's doin's,--ten to one on the monkey, Archie--ten to one!" "An' that you had ten dollars in gold around yo' neck in a little bag, given you by your ole Granny when she died--an' knowin' how the Lord wus for the monkey, an' it bein' a dead cinch, an' all that--an' these fellers blowin' an' offerin' to bet ten to one--an' seein' you c'ud pick it up in the road--all for the little church, mind you, Bishop--" "Archie B.," exclaimed the old man excitedly, "them bein' the facts an' the thing at stake, with that ole dorg an' Jud Carpenter at the bottom of it, I'd a put it up on the monkey, son--fur charity, you know, an' fur the principle of it,--I'd a put it up, Archie B., if I'd lost ever' cent!" "Exactly, Bishop, an' I did--at ten to one--think of the odds! Ten to one, mighty nigh as great as wus ag'in David." "An' you won, of course, Archie B., you won in a walk?" said the old man breathlessly. "God was fur you an' the monkey." Archie B. smiled triumphantly and pulled out his handful of gold. The old man sat down on a log, dazed. "Archie B., sho'ly, sho'ly, not all that? An' licked the dorg, an' that gang, an' cleaned 'em up?" Archie B. told him the story with all the quaint histrionic talent of his exuberant nature. The Bishop sat and laughed till the tears came.