"Well," I admitted, "I suppose I would be the same man, but I'd look mighty different."
He leaned back in his chair, contemplating me with a satisfied smile. "I am pleased to see that you are willing to grant that you are in error," he said, stroking his beard; "it's always better to tell the truth at first than to wait until you are obliged to do so. But this, of course, is not what I called to say, and I must come to the point. I've preached in this church two Sabbaths, and you have not been present. May I ask you why?"
"Well I—I'm not much in the habit of going to church. I——"
"Hedging again, Mr. Waydean," he said, holding up a warning forefinger. "I must insist upon your being perfectly frank. I have reason to suppose you have stayed away on account of this petty disagreement with Brother Bunce and Brother Lemon. Is not that the fact?"
Alas, I could not say! Had I known the particulars of the petty disagreement he mentioned I might have hazarded an admission that he was correct in his surmise, for I find it easier to acknowledge that a person is right in a matter of no interest to me than think up arguments on the other side. I felt like a small boy who is called upon to decide instantly whether his punishment will be mitigated or increased if he confesses to a deed of which he is both innocent and ignorant. I looked in every direction but at my accuser, and remained silent.
"Mr. Waydean," he went on, with a note of sympathetic compassion that would have softened my heart had I been a sinner, "I find it is better to begin work in a new sphere by smoothing out anything that has caused discord, so I have come to you to-day as a peacemaker to speak about your demeanor in church, which, I understand, has been the primary cause of this trouble."
"My demeanor in church?" I cried, with indignant incredulity.
"Not a word, if you please, until I have stated the case in full, as I understand it; then I shall listen to your explanation. You are in the habit of sleeping in church, and——"
Again I struggled to disclaim the habit of church-going. Again his masterful voice drowned my protest.