“There is corruption in the church. Members of its vestry have bribed the government of the town. They are robbing the people. The vestry has refused me a hearing and turned me out of the church. I appeal to the congregation. Next Wednesday evening, at eight o'clock, I will address a meeting on the vacant lot opposite the church, and will tell what I know. SAMUEL PRESCOTT.”
“And what are you going to do with that?” asked Sophie in wonder.
“I am going to have it printed on little slips, and give them out to the people when they are coming out of the church to-morrow morning.”
“Oh, Samuel!” gasped the child.
“I have to do it,” he said.
“But, Samuel, everyone will come—people from all over town.”
“I can't help that,” he answered. “I can't afford to hire a hall; and they wouldn't let me speak in the church.”
“But can you get this printed so quickly?”
“I don't know,” said he. “I must find some one.”
Sophie clapped her hands suddenly. “Oh, I know just the very thing!” she cried. “Friedrich Bremer has a printing press!”