of course, was present.

"I hear it is for profane speaking and reviling," answered Davenport.

"If everybody was to have his desarts," said our friend, Tom Gladding,
squirting a stream of tobacco juice over the floor, "I guess, some
others would be worse off," and he looked sharply at Davenport.

"It is time such things should be punished," said Davenport. "People
begin to act as if there was no law in the country."

"Don't you be quite so hard on a fellow," said Tom. "I recollect
the time before you were convarted, squire, when you swore like a
trooper."

The face of Davenport faded into a dusky grey with anger, and he
looked as if he would have liked to annihilate the audacious Tom, but,
by a violent effort, controlling his passion, he said:

"I trust the Lord has forgiven me the sin."

"I hope he has," said Tom, "and seems to me it would be a good thing
for Squire Miller to follow his example."

"Suppose you tell him so," said Davenport, sarcastically.

"Well, seeing as how you're so pressing," said Gladding "I don't care
if I do. Squire," he cried, addressing the Justice, and drawing the
attention of all to himself, "here's Squire Davenport says, he expects
the Lord's forgive his cussing and swearing, and thinks you'd better