"You remember the old Bible class," said Wagner; "I have one here, or
rather two, for we meet twice a day, some finding it more convenient
to come in the morning and others after service, so that my time is
pretty well filled."
"And you would give me one of the classes," I said, as Maude filled my
coffee cup the second time.
"This is what I propose to do."
"And I accept most cheerfully."
"We have but a little time; in an hour you will be ready," and the
pastor went to his study.
An hour afterwards the street was full of eager faces, all going to
the house of God, quiet and calm, but still cheerful and happy,
stopping to interchange greetings with each other, above all glad of a
welcoming look and smile from the pastor. I soon saw wherein was the
charm; sympathizing and kindly affectioned toward his people the
pastor interested himself in the little history of each, neglecting no
one, and especially attentive to the poor and feeble aged ones of his
flock. All loved him as a pastor, and by reason of this he persuaded
them the more easily.
The church was a quaint structure, half gothic, and half of a
nondescript architecture peculiar to itself. Leaving the vestibule we
entered at once the main audience-room, large, and sufficiently
commodious, but somewhat dark and gloomy. The pulpit was high, and
looked like an upright octagonal vase perched on a square pedestal.
This was unoccupied at present, the people taking their seats, and
forming as I saw at once into two distinct classes.
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