"'Well, then, I want the lot just as it lies, sand and all, coming down to a p'int near the railroad, and a runnin' back one hundred feet to the rail fence put across where the land lies even, and I'll give you five hundred dollars for it.'"
"'Good land, 'Squire' says I, ''t ain't wuth it.'"
"'It's wuth every dollar of five hundred to the road,' says he; 'if they have to go a mile farther either way, they'll have to give six or eight. I'll have the deed drawn up ready for you and your wife to sign.'"
"'Squire Asbury,' says I as soon as I could catch my breath, 'I believe the Lord sent you here. When I give that five hundred to the Lord I never thought o' getting it back again, but you see here 't is, dollar for dollar, and more, too, for the pleasure o' giving my mite towards the Lord's new meeting-house was wuth the whole sum. Sure as you live, Lucy and I, we give thanks to God for lettin' of us have the privilege.'"
"'Yes, yes, I know that,' says he, and so he does. If ever a man was blessed in his basket and store it's that same 'Squire Asbury. His hand, as the Scripter says, 'is open to the wants o' the poor.'" He ended with one grand flourish.
Marion laughed heartily as she said, "I wish you'd preach that sermon to some of our rich men on Fifth Avenue who don't know the pleasure of giving. It is as practical a sermon as I ever heard."
"Now, wife, speak up, if you've anything to say."
"Husband and I have had a letter," Mrs. Rand said, opening the large family Bible and taking an envelope from between the leaves. "It has made us real cheery coming so far, and it has good news in it, too. The pastor is real friendly to think of us."
"The pastor," exclaimed Marion, in surprise. "Have you had a letter from Mr. Angus?"
The farmer evidently understood that he had had his turn, and that his wife now had the floor.