'Oh, Christopher, how have I been edified this night!' 'Yes, yes, I know,' said Kit hastily; 'but come along, mother, everybody's looking at us.

Don't make a noise--bring Jacob--that's right!' 'Stay, Satan, stay!' cried the preacher, as Kit was moving off.
'This gentleman says you're to stay, Christopher,' whispered his mother.
'Stay, Satan, stay!' roared the preacher again.

'Tempt not the woman that doth incline her ear to thee, but harken to the voice of him that calleth.

He hath a lamb from the fold!' cried the preacher, raising his voice still higher and pointing to the baby.

'He beareth off a lamb, a precious lamb! He goeth about, like a wolf in the night season, and inveigleth the tender lambs!' Kit was the best-tempered fellow in the world, but considering this strong language, and being somewhat excited by the circumstances in which he was placed, he faced round to the pulpit with the baby in his arms, and replied aloud, 'No, I don't.