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"I suppose Mr. Hardcap's best broadcloth coat and Mrs. Hardcap's black silk gown last them a good many years. Isn't it so, Mr. Hardcap?" Mr. Hardcap confessed that it was. "The minister has to wear broadcloth, Mr. Hardcap, all the week. He must be always in society dress. So must his wife. With the utmost economy their bill for clothes mounts up to a frightful sum. I know, for I have tried it."
The very earth clothes itself in the spotless white of the heavenly robe, as if to prepare for the coming of its Lord. Alas for him who does not believe in Christmas! May the ghost of Scrooge haunt him into a better mind. This was what I mentally ejaculated to myself last Saturday afternoon after Mr. Hardcap's protest against our Christmas celebration.
But I can get no intimation from Maurice how the plan is prospering financially. All he will say is, "We shall all know at the close of the year." Mr. Hardcap's Family Prayers. "JENNIE," said I, the other evening, "I should like to go and make a call at Mr. Hardcap's." Our new pastor had preached a sermon on that unapplied passage of Scripture, Luke xiv: 12-14.
"He was such a noble fellow," said Jennie to the weeping mother. She said it softly, but Mr. Hardcap's ears caught the expression. "Nobility, ma'am," said he, "isn't a savin' grace. It's a nateral virtoo. The question is, did he have the savin' grace of faith and repentance?" "I believe," said Mrs. Gear, earnestly, "that Willie was a Christian, if ever there was one, Mr. Hardcap."
But I pity poor James from the bottom of my heart; and as my wife and I walked home I could not but help contrasting in my own mind Mr. Hardcap's way of reading the Bible and that which Deacon Goodsole pursues in his family. In Darkness. LAST Tuesday night Jennie met me at the station. It is unusual for her to do so. The surprise was a delightful one to me.
If we lay up our treasures on earth where moth and rust doth corrupt, we must expect they will take to themselves wings and fly away." Mr. Hardcap's horrible mutilation of Scripture had always impressed me in a singular manner. But I think its ludicrous side never so affected me before.
Jennie assented with alacrity to my proposition; her toilet did not take long, and to Mr. Hardcap's we went. It was very evident that they did not go into society or expect callers. In answer to our knock we heard the patter of a child's feet on the hall floor and Susie opened the door.
Hardcap's I find a big family Bible, and half a dozen of those made up volumes fat with thick paper and large type, and showy with poor pictures, which constitute the common literature of two thirds of our country homes. And I know that poor Mr. Hardcap is the unfortunate victim of book agents.
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