Examination day came, and the junior geography class was called.
"Fine intelligent class this, Mr. Mackenzie," said one of the clergymen.
"Oh, yes, sir, they're na boor-like."
"Can any of the little boys or girls tell me what is the shape of the earth?"
Every hand was extended, every head thrown back, every eye flashed with eager excitement in the good old style of schools. One was singled out with a "You, my little fellow, tell us."
"Roond on Sundays, and square all the rest o' the week."
Rivalry in Prayer
Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, has a wide-awake Presbyterian elder of Scotch character, who, although a persistent advocate of the Westminster Confession, occasionally for convenience sake—and from an innate love of religious intercourse—attends the meetings of his Methodist brethren.
At a recent prayer-meeting that was held preparatory to a centennial service in commemoration of the progress of Methodism in Nova Scotia, the presiding minister dwelt eloquently upon the wonderful growth and prosperity of the Methodist Church, and upon the life of its great founder, John Wesley. He also expressed thankfulness that on that day there were one hundred and nine Methodist ministers in Nova Scotia. The meeting thus very decidedly assumed a denominational character, but the minister asked the good Presbyterian brother to lead in prayer at the close. The elder complied, and after thanking God for the many good things he had just heard "about this branch of Zion," he added, with much depth and feeling, "O Lord, we thank Thee for John Knox; we thank Thee for the one hundred and nine Methodist ministers in our country, but we especially thank Thee for the one hundred and thirteen Presbyterian ministers who are preaching the Word of Life throughout our land. Amen."