For some time "the Golden Shoemaker" persisted valiantly in his attempt to answer every letter he received. Miss Jemima's scornful disapproval was of no avail. In vain she declared her conviction that every other letter was an imposture or a hoax, and pointed out that, if people wanted their letters answered, they ought to enclose a stamp. Then, for the twentieth time, she repeated her suggestion that a secretary should be engaged. At first her brother waived this proposal aside; but at length it became imperative that help should be sought. "Cobbler" Horn was like a man who attempts, single-handed, to cut his way through a still-accumulating snow-drift. The man must perish, if help do not come; unless "Cobbler" Horn secured assistance in dealing with his letters, it was impossible to tell what his fate might be. It was now simply a question by what means the needed help might best be obtained; and both "Cobbler" Horn and his sister agreed that the wisest thing would be to consult the minister of their church. This, accordingly, "Cobbler" Horn resolved to do. "Cobbler" Horn's minister officiated in a sanctuary such as was formerly called a "chapel," but is now, more frequently designated a "church." His name was Durnford; and he was a man of strongly-marked individuality--a godly, earnest, shrewd, and somewhat eccentric, minister of the Gospel. He was always accessible to his people in their trouble or perplexity, and they came to him without reserve. But surely his advice had never been sought concerning difficulties so peculiar as those which were about to be laid before him by "Cobbler" Horn! It was about ten o'clock on the Monday morning following his visit to the lawyers, that "Cobbler" Horn sat in Mr. Durnford's study, waiting for the minister to appear. He had not long to wait. The door opened, and Mr. Durnford entered. He was a middle-aged man of medium height, with keen yet kindly features, and hair and beard of iron grey. He greeted his visitor with unaffected cordiality. "I've come to ask your advice, sir, under circumstances of some difficulty," said "Cobbler" Horn, when they were seated facing each other before a cheerful fire. This being a kind of appeal to which he was accustomed, the minister received the announcement calmly enough. "Glad to help you, if I can, Mr. Horn," he said. There was a breeziness about Mr. Durnford which at once afforded preliminary refreshment to such troubled spirits as sought his counsel. "Thank you, sir," said "Cobbler" Horn, "I'm sure you will. You have heard of the sudden and unexpected----" "To be sure!" broke in the minister, leaping to his feet, and grasping his visitor's hand, "Pardon me; I quite forgot. Let me congratulate you. Of course it's true?" "Yes, sir, thank you; it's true--too true, I'm afraid." Mr. Durnford laughed. "How if I were to commiserate you, then?" he said.