The challenge was accepted and the hay-wagon driven round and the trial commenced. For some time the old man held his own very creditably, calling out, tauntingly, "More hay! more hay!"
Thicker and faster it came. The old man was nearly covered; still he kept crying, "More hay! more hay!" until struggling to keep on the top of the disordered and ill-arranged heap, it began first to roll, then to slide, and at last off it went from the wagon, and the old man with it.
"What are you down here for?" cried the boys.
"I came down after hay," answered the old man, stoutly.
Which was a literal fact. He had come down after the wagon load, which had to be pitched on again rather more deliberately.
WHY BROTHER DICKSON LEFT THE CHURCH.
Mr. Dickson, a colored barber, was shaving one of his customers, a respectable citizen, one morning, when a conversation occurred between them respecting Mr. Dickson's former connection with a colored church in the place.
"I believe you are connected with the church in ——street, Mr. Dickson," said the customer.
"So, Sah, not at all."
"What! are you not a member of the African Church?"