"Yes," he answered; "had I sold the counties the profits would have suited all right." "But you just told me you had sold them, and the Irishman had deposited ten dollars to bind the bargain." "True, he did," said Brother Long, "but he came back the next day after I had traded, and said: 'A divil a bit of a county can I take at all, at all. Me old wife threatens to scald me, if I bring even one county into the house!'" "Well, but you kept his ten dollars, didn't you?" "Of course I did," he yelled out. "Well, then, you ought to be satisfied," I ventured to remark. "What! Satisfied with ten dollars?" "Yes; with all these County rights besides." "Brother Johnston," said he, "will you trade back, and give me the team for the counties?" I answered: "I am not trading for territory, Brother Long. I am selling it." About this time the greater portion of Brother Long's family appeared on the scene, and were re-inforced by my mother in their entreaties to me to trade back. She said it was too bad for Brother Long, and I _must_ do it. Mr. Keefer said: "It did beat the d----l!" I then told Brother Long that I was like him in this respect, that I wasn't doing business exclusively for glory; and that a few dollars, just at that stage of the game, would be a matter of great consideration with me. He then offered me two dollars if I would trade back. "Well, Brother Long," said I, "you begin to talk now as I want to hear you, except that your figures are a little below my idea of a fair compensation for my trouble." He then anxiously inquired what my ideas were of what would be right. "About one hundred and fifty dollars," I answered. "O, Heavens! what shall I do? Sister Keefer, what shall I do? Shall we engage in prayer? What shall I do? What shall I do?" Then they surrounded me, and made a general clamor for a compromise. I dropped to a hundred dollars. He offered twenty-five. I fell to seventy-five. He offered to split the difference, and he to return all the territory except one county. After thinking the matter all over, and considering that he was a nice old gentleman and a Methodist brother, I concluded to trade back. A few days later Brother Long and I met in the Post-office just when the mail was being distributed, and the place crowded. We were the center of attraction. He smiled grimly at me, and while passing by said: "The fools are not all dead yet, are they, Johnston?" "No, Brother Long," I answered; "and there is no fool like an old fool." About three weeks later I started on a tour through Ohio, making several agents and selling a few Township and County rights. Another little experience with a Methodist deacon will come in here, and I will tell it. He was a farmer, living a few miles south of Marion, Ohio.