In the mean time Kitty Fagan had gone down with Mr.Byles Gridley's note, to carry it to the Rev.Mr.
Stoker.

But, on her way, she stopped at the house of one Mrs.Finnegan, a particular friend of hers; and the great event of the morning furnishing matter for large discourse, and various social allurements adding to the fascination of having a story to tell, Kitty Fagan forgot her note until meeting had begun and the minister had read the text of his sermon.

"Bless my soul! and sure I 've forgot ahl about the letter!" she cried all at once, and away she tramped for the meeting-house.

The sexton took the note, which was folded, and said he would hand it up to the pulpit after the sermon,--it would not do to interrupt the preacher.
The Rev.Mr.Stoker had, as was said, a somewhat remarkable gift in prayer,--an endowment by no means confined to profoundly spiritual persons,--in fact, not rarely owing much of its force to a strong animal nature underlying the higher attributes.

The sweet singer of Israel would never have written such petitions and such hymns if his manhood had been less complete; the flavor of remembered frailties could not help giving a character to his most devout exercises, or they would not have come quite home to our common humanity.