The deacon followed him with his eyes, and finally said,-- "I wonder how much truth there was in him--about leaning on a higher power ?" "Oh, about as much as in the rest of us, I suppose." "What do you mean ?" The deacon snapped out this question; his words sounded like a saw-file at work.
"Merely what I say," the judge replied.

"We all trust to our religion while things go to suit us, but as soon as there's something unusual to be done--in the way of business--we fall back on our old friend the Devil, just as Sam Kimper used to do." "Speak for yourself, judge, and for Sam, if you want to," said the deacon with fine dignity, "but don't include me among 'the rest of us.' Good-morning, judge." "Good-morning, deacon.

No offence meant." "Perhaps not; but some men give it without meaning to.

Good-morning." "I guess the coat fits him," murmured the judge to himself, as he sauntered homeward..