"Well," said he, "they range all the way from ten cents up to five dollars, accordin' to the article and its quality."
"Did you ever consider," said I, "what a minister's tools cost?"
"Minister's tools!" said he, "I didn't know he had any, except his pen."
"My dear sir," said I, "his tools alone cost him between one and two hundred dollars a year."
Mr. Hardcap expressed his incredulity by a long whistle; and even Deacon Goodsole expressed a quiet doubt. But my father was a minister and I know something about it.
"Look here," said I. "He must have at least two religious weeklies, one of his own denomination, and one of a more general character," and I took out a pencil and paper and noted down my list as I made it, "that's six dollars. He ought to have at least two of the popular magazines, that's eight dollars. He ought to have a good scientific magazine of some kind, four dollars more; and his theological quarterly is indispensable, four dollars more; and at least one of the daily newspapers, he ought really to read on both sides, but we will allow only one, that's ten dollars, and here is the footing of his periodical literature: Two religious weeklies $6 Popular Magazines 8 Scientific Magazine 4 Theological Quarterly 4 Daily Paper 10 $32"
"That's what it will cost him," said I, "simply to keep up with the times."
The other gentlemen looked at my figures a moment in silence. Deacon Goodsole was the first to speak. "That is a pretty liberal estimate," said he. "A great many ministers get along on less than that."
"Oh yes," said I, "and grow dry and dull in consequence. Little food makes lean men."
Mr. Hardcap shook his head resolutely, "I don't believe in preachin' to the times," said he. "It's scripter interpretation and the doctrines we want."