Go, thou, and reap
some more trade dollars in my vineyard."
The sexton went back and commenced where he left off. He had his
misgivings, thinking maybe some of the boys would glide out in his
absence, or think better of the affair and only put in nickels on the
second heat, but the first man the sexton held out the platter to planked
down his dollar, and all the boys followed suit, not a man "passed" or
"renigged," and when the last drummer had been interviewed the sexton
carried the biggest load of silver back to the table that he ever saw.
Some of the silver dollars rolled off on the floor, and he had to put some
in his coat pockets, but he got them all, and looked around at the
congregation with a smile and wiped the perspiration from his forehead
with a bandanna handkerchief and winked, as much as to say, "The first man
that speaks disrespectfully of a traveling man in my presence will get
thumped, and don't you forget it."
The minister rose up in the pulpit, looked at the wealth on the table, and
read the hymn, "A charge to keep I have," and the congregation joined, the
travelers swelling the glad anthem as though they belonged to a
Pinafore chorus. They all bowed their heads while the minister, with one
eye on the dollars, pronounced the benediction, and the services were
over.
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