"Say! Parson, are you any relation to the Good Samaritan?"
This was rather a poser; a suitable reply was evidently not ready on the moment.
"No, I'm not, I'm sorry to say—but what's the matter with you?"
"Just broke! Besides, if I wasn't, I don't see why I need pay a dollar for a bed when I have my own blanket. What are you—High Church or Low Church?"
"I'm anything you like; but you'll have to get out of this. If you sleep there you'll roll over and crush my flowers. But what are you?"
"Everything you don't like, I guess."
"No, that you're not. But the thing is, if I let one of you fellows camp here, I'll have a hundred in no time."
"All right! I don't mind sleeping inside the church, if you don't want the other fellows to see me!"
What could be done with such a man?
"But I'm going to have service at twelve o'clock for any of the boys coming in from the creeks."