It so fell out that a congregation in Mr. Bulkley's vicinity got to loggerheads, and were upon the apex of raising "the evil one" instead of a spire to their church, as they proposed and _split_ upon. The very nearest they could come to a mutual cessation of the hostilities, was to appoint a _committee_ of three, to wait on Mr. Bulkley, state their _case_, and get him to adjudicate. They waited on the old gentleman, and he listened with grave attention to their conflicting grievances. "It appears to me," said the old gentleman, "that this is a very simple case--a very trifling thing to cause you so much vexation." "So I say," says one of the _committee_. "I don't call it a trifling case, Mr. Bulkley," said another. "No case at all," responded the third. "It ain't, eh?" fiercely answered the first speaker. "No, it ain't, sir!" quite as savagely replied the third. "It's anything but a trifling case, anyhow," echoed number two, "to expect to raise the minister's salary and that new steeple, too, out of our small congregation." "There is no danger of raising much out of _you_, anyhow, Mr. Johnson," spitefully returned number one. "Gentlemen, if you please--" beseechingly interposed the sage. "I haven't come here, Mr. Bulkley, to quarrel," said one. "Who started this?" sarcastically answered Mr. Johnson. "Not me, anyway," number three replies. "You don't say I did, do you?" says number one. "Gentlemen!--gentlemen!--" "Mr. Bulkley, you see how it is; there's Johnson--" "Yes, Mr. Bulkley," says Johnson, "and there's old Winkles, too, and here's Deacon Potter, also." "I _am_ here," stiffly replied the deacon, "and I am sorry the Reverend Mr. Bulkley finds me in such company, sir!" "Now, gentlemen, _brothers_, if you please," said Mr. Bulkley, "this is ridiculous,--" "So I say," murmured Mr. Winkles. "As far as _you_ are concerned, it is ridiculous," said the deacon. This brought Mr. Winkles _up_, standing. "Sir!" he shouted, "sir!" "But my dear _sirs_--" beseechingly said the philosopher. "Sir!" continued Winkles, "sir! I am too old a man--too good a Christian, Mr. Bulkley, to allow a man, a mean, despicable _toad_, like Deacon Potter--" "Do you call me--_me_ a despicable _toad_?" menacingly cried the deacon. "Brethren," said Mr. Bulkley, "if I am to counsel you in your difference, I must have no more of this unchristian-like bickering." "I do not wish to bicker, sir," said Johnson. "Nor I don't want to, sir," said the deacon, "but when a man calls me a toad, a mean, despicable _toad_--" "Well, well, never mind," said Mr. Bulkley; "you are all too excited now; go home again, and wait patiently; on Saturday evening next, I will have prepared and sent to you a written opinion of your case, with a full and free avowal of most wholesome advice for preserving your church from desolation and yourselves from despair." And the committee left, to await his issue.