in yer fust sermon it'll hurt the hoss bizness an' put some uf the best members uf the congregashun agin ye.' The preacher raised his hans in holy horror, as he said: 'I can't preach agin the frivolities of fashun, dancin' an' sich; I can't preach agin drunkenness; I can't preach agin gamblin'. Fur heavin's sake, what kin I preach about?' 'I'll tell ye,' volunteered the caller quickly, 'preach about the Jews, jes gin 'em hell, thar's only one in town.'" Lin concluded, "Maybe Uncle Tom figgered the same way on yer kase," and she roared with laughter as she gave Alfred a playful push. After the boasting Alfred had indulged in previous to going on tour with Eli, he could not face his friends. He borrowed five dollars from Lin and in a careless way, informed the family that the next day he would go up to Uncle Jake's for a couple of weeks' visit. He packed up his belongings, bade the family an affectionate good-bye and ran away, like many another coward has done before and since. He was not in debt to any extent, it was simply his vanity, a false pride that would not permit him to face the little world in which he lived. Those who should have advised him censured; those who had influence for good held aloof. He went to a big city, to Pittsburg, to seek his fortune among strangers, return rich, reward all who were kind to him and humble all who had lost faith in him. He went aboard the boat bound for Pittsburg. He slept soundly and was only awakened by the clanging of bells and the blowing of whistles. Peering out of the stateroom ventilator, his eyes met a sight such as he had never witnessed before. Fire in long-tongued flashes blazed up a hundred feet out of blackened chimneys, shadowy demons working over fiery furnaces, boiling, white hot lava flowed in streams, the air was filled with smoke and sparks. Alfred imagined he had died in his sins and was now nearing the place of eternal torment. He could liken the scene before him to nothing on earth. It must be Hell, and he felt that the lid had been lifted for his especial benefit. There was a rap on his stateroom door and a voice called: "All out for Pittsburg." Alfred hustled into his clothes and walked out in the cabin, not desiring to leave the boat until after daylight. He inquired of the clerk as to how long the boat would remain there. "We leave at eight o'clock," replied the clerk. "Eight o'clock what? Morning or night?" asked Alfred. "Eight o'clock morning," replied the man. "Why, when does it get daylight in Pittsburg?" inquired the bewildered boy. The clerk laughed as he answered, "Tomorrow, if the sun shines."