He had on a long linen cluster that reached below his knees.
Beneath this was a faded Prince Albert coat and a vest much too small.
On his head there sat, slightly tipped, a high-topped beaver that seemed to have been hidden between two mattresses all the week and taken out and straightened for Sunday wear.

In his hand he held a walking cane.
Thus clad he came toward the church, his body thrown slightly back, walking leisurely with the air of quiet dignity possessed by the man sure of his standing, and not under the necessity of asserting it overmuch in his carriage.
The brothers pulled off their hats and the sisters put on their best smiles as the parson approached.

After a cordial handshake all around, the preacher entered the church to begin the services.

After singing a hymn and praying, he took for his text the following "passige of scripter:" "It air harder fur a camel to git through de eye of a cambric needle den fur a rich man to enter de kingdom of heben." This was one of the parson's favorite texts, and the members all settled themselves back to have a good "speritual" time.
The preacher began his sermon in a somewhat quiet way, but the members knew that he would "warm up bye and bye." He pictured all rich men as trying to get into heaven, but, he asserted, they invariably found themselves with Dives.

He exhorted his hearers to stick to Jesus.