“Of more than enough, perhaps,” suggested his wife. “And the young ones must have their chance, else how are they to learn? You should have given the principal a hint. It is a most desirable thing that Frederick should preach a little oftener.”
“They have it in turn, and it wouldn’t do to favour one more than another.”
“He could hand his guinea, or whatever they gave him, to the one whose turn it ought to have been, and that would set it all right.”
At this point the silk-mercer, fearing that the dominie, as he called him, was silently disapproving, and willing therefore to change the subject, turned to him and said,
“Why shouldn’t you give us a sermon, Graham?”
The schoolmaster laughed.
“Did you never hear,” he said, “how I fell like Dagon on the threshold of the church, and have lain there ever since.”
“What has that to do with it?” returned his friend, sorry that his forgetfulness should have caused a painful recollection. “That is ages ago, when you were little more than a boy. Seriously,” he added, chiefly to cover his little indiscretion, “will you preach for us the Sunday after next?”
Deacons generally ask a man to preach for them.
“No,” said Mr Graham.