"Ja-Jabez Gordon?"
"Jabez Gordon! and you are Mithter Buthkin."
"But you--I--oh!"
"Exthactly! Oh! ith jutht the word. Mithter Buthkin, I'm glad to thee you. We're old acquaintanthes, we are, although you may not know it! You ask my daughter 'Annah 'ow much indebted to you we feel. My 'Annah lookth on you ath a brother, a Christian brother. Thee them billth?"--Emmanuel slapped the pile of mission notices with a dingy hand. Lemuel's last shadow of pluck was evaporating fast; but Oldstein with the question challenged his fanaticism.
"I'm proud to be a labourer in the vineyard!" was the surly defiant reply.
"And well may be! But you're an unthkilled labourer, Mr. Buthkin. Now I'm glad you've called, for I want to talk to you; you're goin' to listen and then we may do bithness."
Lemuel, surprised and unprepared, was cowed by Oldstein's decision and speech. He had bitterness on his tongue, but refrained from any retort.
"Do you believe in the fairieth, Mithter Buthkin?" was the unexpected question.
Lemuel could only stare and wonder.
"Answer me!"