The Elder was a pious man; at least he looked like one, and spoke like one too.
His face was as long as the moral law, and p'rhaps an inch longer, and as smooth as a hone; and his voice was so soft and sweet, and his tongue moved so ily on its hinges, you'd a thought you might a trusted him with ontold gold, if you didn't care whether you ever got it agin or no.

He had a bran new hat on, with a brim that was none of the smallest, to keep the sun from makin' his inner man wink, and his go-to-meetin' clothes on, and a pair of silver mounted spurs, and a beautiful white cravat, tied behind, so as to have no bows to it, and look meek.

If there was a good man on airth, you'd a said it was him.

And he seemed to feel it, and know it too, for there was a kind of look o' triumph about him, as if he had conquered the Evil One, and was considerable well satisfied with himself.
"'H'are you,' sais I, 'Elder, to-day?
Which way are you from ?" "'From the General Christian Assembly, sais he, 'to Goose Creek.

We had a "_most refreshin' time on't_." There was a great "_outpourin' of the spirit_."' "'Well, that's awful,' says I, 'too.