takin' care o' me and her home. That's what I got her for, ain't it?
She didn't marry the church--to-be-sure, though, it does look like it
sometimes."

"We must all work in the Master's vineyard. None shall lose his reward,"
said Deacon Wickham again. "We all have our talents and God will hold
us responsible for the use we make of them. We all have our work to
do." To which sentiment Uncle Bobbie's reply was, "Yes; that means all
the women have our work to do, and that we'll get our reward by makin'
'em do it. I ain't got no use fer a man who lets a woman do his work,
even in church. There's enough for 'em to do that we can't, without
their spoilin' their eyes and breakin' their backs makin' sofa pillows,
carpet rags, and mince meat, to pay the runnin' expenses of the church,
and the debt besides."

"I know of only one way," said the pastor, anxious to prevent these
too frequent clashes between the pious deacon and the sharp old elder.

"What's that?" asked Chairman Gardner.

"The Young People's Society."

There was a slight rustle and the sound as of a book falling to the
floor in the other room.

"Umph," said Godfrey; "what can _they_ do?"

"Have you ever attended their meetings?" asked Cameron. "They have
done more practical, Christian work this past year than all the rest
of the church put together. And if the truth must be told, are more