The preacher roared with as genuine a laugh as ever was blown across a cotton field.
"We don't need so very much," he said, his gravity returning with a suddenness that made him appear almost ridiculously solemn. "We need something, however, and when our own resources had fallen short, I told my brethren that I knew where to come. The truth is, we need a new bell for the church, and lack twenty-five dollars of having enough to pay for it."
"A new bell! Why, what's the matter with the old one?"
"It is cracked, Sir."
"Cracked! Why I'll bet a thousand dollars you can hear it fifteen miles. Why don't you take the money that a bell would cost and give it to the poorer members of your congregation?"
"The poor we have with us always, Senator. We need a new bell."
"Yes, and you'll ring it at all times of night and keep me awake. Why do they have to be rung, too, so much? Hang me, if I don't believe you've got one old fellow over there that gets up and rings it in his sleep; and many a time I've felt like filling his black hide with shot. When do you want the devilish thing?"
"You mean the bell, Sir?"
"Yes. When do you have to get it?"
"It has been ordered and it must be paid for on its arrival."