“Got thinking in a groove, Priddy, that’s what the professor thought. But, of course, I’ve other faults. I don’t speak up--just whisper: no life or action. But,” he went on with a confidential smile, “I’m working hard on that, too. Mean to brighten up on those things next Sunday; though reformation can’t come in a day or a week.” The next Monday a most encouraging report came to Burner from his deacon. Among other things, the old man said in his letter, “There were not many out to hear him, for they had not cared for his preaching of the previous Sunday: but to those of us who had heard him the first time, his second appearance was startling. First of all, he seemed to have confidence. That was the striking thing. Then, in his effort to make himself heard he kept on a high-pitched note, which was somewhat monotonous, but more effective than his former timid whispering as if he were afraid of bursting the ear-drum of a gnat which sat on his desk. He fanned the air like a windmill in an effort to remedy lack of action: but that was a good sign. It argues well for the young man when he gets on the middle ground. But his sermon! He really gave us a cheering word; that made most of the others, who were there, like him. Personally, he would be glad to know in what a different way I have taken the application of his sermon, to ‘rejoice, and again--rejoice.’ I wish him the best of success. There is hope for him. I am getting one or two people, who told me they like what he had to say about rejoicing, to write notes of appreciation to him.” “Twenty dollars well spent!” concluded Burner, with a smile. “At the rate, he is going Tucker will have a church of his own, over which he will cast his blessing. He has confidence--now!” Late in the spring, Tucker found himself enjoying somewhat of a local reputation among us, for he was a decided success, by that time, on his preaching expeditions. He said to me, “Priddy, the other people think I’ve got a call--now. I had a narrow escape, didn’t I?” _Chapter XXIV. Burner, a Searcher After Truth. How a May-Pole Subdued a Tribe of Little Savages_ Burner, the upper-classman, though not my roommate, and by his upper-class privileges under no sentimental obligations to me, became my constant companion. He was a tall, thick-set man with a very heavy black moustache, much older than myself and dominated by a very heavy but sincere temperament. He had been a real estate agent and a country auctioneer up to his thirtieth birthday. Then he had studied for three years, privately, with a high-school principal, and later he had come to the Seminary to put himself under training for the ministry.