A daughter of his to say the Lord did not send souls to hell! "Alfaretta," he said, with solemn slowness, "you'd better get your bunnet and go home.

I'll see Mr.Ward about this; his wife's done harm enough.
You've got to leave her,--I mean it.

I won't see her send my child to hell before my very eyes." "Oh, pa," Alfaretta entreated, choking and sobbing, and brushing her tears away with the back of her hand, "don't,--don't say nothin' to Mr.
Ward, nor take me away.

'Twasn't her made me say those things; it was just my own self.

Don't take me away." "Did she ever say anything to you about the Lord not sendin' people to hell ?" asked her father.
"Oh," said Alfaretta, growing more and more frightened, "'tain't what she talks about; it's her bein' so good, an'"-- "Did she ever," interrupted the elder, with slow emphasis, standing over her, and shaking his stubby forefinger at her,--"did she ever say the Lord didn't send Tom Davis to hell, to you ?" Alfaretta cowered in her chair, and Thaddeus began to whimper for sympathy.