"Well, I'll live in hope. You will come and take pot-luck with us before you leave Fairmount?"
"Yes, do, Sir," added Mrs. Pickford; "we shall all be so glad to see you, and so will dear Henry."
"I forgot to say one thing," observed the farmer, "which mainly you would like to know, Sir."
"And what is that, Mr. Pickford?"
"Why, my mistress and our Harry have set up a bit of a prayer meeting like, in our kitchen, on a Wednesday night. Our youngsters and sarvants, and some of the neighbours come to it, and fill it; and we have some good singing, and all the rest of it, as they have at Mr. Stevens' chapel."
"I am happy to hear this, farmer; but have you a sermon?"
"No, Sir, not always; but we have a sarmunt now and tan, when we can get hold of a preacher; and when we 'ant got one, our Harry says a few things from the Bible, and you would be main pleased to hear him. He puts out what he says in a plainish sort of a way, but we all see that what he says comes from his heart, and it gets into our hearts, and does us good. Will you come, Sir, some Wednesday night while you are here, and give us a prayer and a sarmunt? You shall have a full kitchen."
"Yes, do, Sir," said Mrs. P.; "we shall be so glad to see you and hear you. I'll invite all our neighbours."
"And if the kitchen be not big enough to hold them, I'll have the barn cleared out, and we'll go there."