only waited the proper time for its performance.

The last hymn had been duly sung, and the boys were drifting along with
the tide in the aisle towards the door, when Dabney nudged Ford with his
elbow.

"We're nabbed, Ford."

"No escape this time, that's a fact. Don't let's try. She means it all
for politeness."

They would have been quite willing to have been allowed to get out and
go home unnoticed; but there in the porch awaiting them were Mrs. Myers
and Almira, and there was no possibility of an escape. It would have
been unkind to try in the face of so much smiling. Besides, they did
board with her; and she had her rights of property, one of which was to
show them off, and introduce them. She proceeded to exercise it at once;
and it was to the credit of the three white boys that they came promptly
to her assistance, and added any little matter she might happen to miss
in the hurry of the moment.

"Deacon Short, this is Mr. Dabney Kinzer, of Long Island; this is Mr.
Frank Harley, of Rangoon, son of Rev. Dr. Harley, our well-known
missionary; this is Mr. Ford Foster, son of the eminent New-York
lawyer."

"Delighted"--began the deacon, rapidly grasping and shaking hand after
hand, with a peculiar lift of his elbow, that placed most of what might
be called the "action" at the point of it; but Ford was thinking of the
thing Mrs. Myers had omitted, and he promptly added,--