A little later on Phebe said: "If you don't mind, friends, sitting down on the grass, I'll tell you a story while my friend has a rest," and a good number of them did so. They hadn't the slightest idea, some of them, that they were attending "a meeting." First, with a story from her own girlhood, and then one told in her own words, from the life of Jesus, she got their closest attention. When one at the close called out, "How much are you paid for this, missis?" more than one tuft of grass was thrown at him, with several unparliamentary bits of advice as to what he was to do with his mouth. After more singing they asked her to talk to them again, and she did so, this time pressing home one or two truths, and then she prayed. Many of the men had never heard a prayer since they prayed at their mother's knee. Not many eyes were closed, but a wonderful silence fell upon that group of rough fellows as they listened to that "little woman" talking to God. "Will you come again, missis?" asked one. "Yes, I will, if you will let me. And please tell your wives, those of you who have them living here--will you?--how much I should like to see them, too. If it rains we should have to go into the shed--would you mind that?" "No, why should we?" they answered. "Not if the singing girl comes too." The four visitors went into the shed before starting home, just to see what it was like, and there a surprise met them. On a stool stood four cups and saucers, a jug of milk, a packet of sugar, and some biscuits. Presently Dick came in, carrying a teapot. This was all his own particular bit of work. He had made a fire at the back of the shed and boiled his kettle there, giving a boy a penny to stand guard over it. The journey home was accomplished in the same manner as the outward had been, and all four had to tell Nanna that they had really had a very enjoyable time. The most enjoyable part to Phebe had been a talk she had with a young fellow who had walked part of the way back with them. "I was the only useless one there, Mrs. Colston," said Reynolds. "My manly protecting strength was not required at all." Just like a woman with a dear old motherly heart, Mrs. Colston had ready for them a specially nice tea. "Is you tum home happy, mummy?" asked dear little Jack, as he gave his mother some welcome hugs. "Yes, darling, very happy." "Why is you vevy happy, mummy?" "Because, darling, I've tried to be obedient." But the thought of why his mother had to be obedient was too perplexing for him, so he turned to the easier task of counting the gooseberries in his little pie. Just before entering the town the little party had been met by Stephen Collins, who again passed by with a bow and a smile. But no smile was in his heart. "Others can stand by her and help her, but I must do nothing--not even defend her as she ought to be defended. God help me!"