flight of stairs. On the left was a spacious drawing-room, carpeted with an imported Brussels and adorned with several oil paintings. It contained a piano, an instrument seldom seen in those days. Back of this room was the owner's study or private apartment. On the right was a room half the size of the drawing-room, all finished in white, containing on the river side a fine bay-window. This room was fitted up with much taste as a family living-room. At the rear of this was a large dining-room, and beyond this a kitchen in which the colored cook, Aunt Dinah, ruled supreme. On the second floor were several large bedchambers furnished in a neat and becoming manner. One hundred yards west of the house, on the ridge, was a cluster of negro cabins, and beyond these an immense barn, the largest in the county.

Viola LeMonde was an only daughter of Judge LeMonde. She had one brother, George, two years younger than herself. Her father and mother almost idolized her, and gave her advantages far beyond those living around her. A fine female boarding school then existed at Cincinnati, Ohio, to which she was sent, and there she remained three years, gaining that knowledge deemed best for young ladies in those days: the common branches of education and the higher accomplishments of music and drawing. At the time of which we write she was in her nineteenth year, and was known far and near for her beauty of mind and person. She was a perfect blonde. A bright light sparkled in her blue eyes; her golden hair was simply arranged over temples and brows beautifully formed. The color of her face was like a delicate peach, white with a blending of red. Her nose was of Grecian type, mouth firmly chiseled and of medium size, while the cherry red lips when parted showed two rows of pearl-like teeth. Her chin was pear-shaped, and revealed decision of character. Her whole appearance gave one the impression of intelligence, purity, and benevolence. She was of medium height, and her figure would have served as a model for the skill of a Phidias. Her greatest accomplishment was music. Her voice was a high soprano, and its naturally pure tone was improved by cultivation under the best teachers.

Jasper Very's preaching appointments included the home of Judge LeMonde, and he was given a hearty welcome from the first to his house. Naturally he had seen the daughter Viola and had conversed with her several times at the mansion and at church. He soon found that she was superior to all the young ladies in the neighborhood both in strength of mind and education. To this she added a bright and deep religious experience. We must confess that the ranger's frequent visits to "Mt. Pisgah" were not wholly on church business.

On a bright afternoon appeared a select company of preachers, including Jasper Very and John Larkin, sitting under the lovely pine trees fronting Judge LeMonde's mansion.

The judge had invited them to his house to rest a day or two after the labors of the camp meeting.

The host and his beautiful daughter had joined the group of ministers.

They were a happy and merry lot as they looked over the tall, green fields of corn, and beyond to the glorious trees lining the river bank, and the sparkling stream seen between the trunks of the trees.

John Larkin was in his best mood, and the different subjects of conversation reminded him of many stories. They were talking of a sallow-cheeked preacher who was leaving his church located on Salt River.

"That makes me think of the illiterate preacher I heard of, who lived in the northern part of the State," said Larkin. "He was about to give up his church, and so delivered a farewell address thus: 'My dear bretherin-ah and sisterin-ah, I am about to leave you-ah, and I feel solemncholy-ah, I can tell you-ah. This mornin' as I was ridin' to this appintment-ah I looked up to the leaves of the trees-ah, and they seemed to be sayin', 'Good-by, Brother Crawford-ah.' And then I see the little birds singin' in the woods, and I fancied they said, 'Good-by, good-by, Brother Crawford-ah.' Then I gazed at the purty squirrels runnin' along the ground and climbin' up the trees, and they 'peared to be barkin', 'Good-bye, O good-bye, Brother Crawford-ah!' After awhile I come to a lot of pigs awallerin' in mud by the roadside. When my hoss-ah got just opposite, they got up and gave some loud grunts—whoo! whoo! whoo!—and that scart my hoss-ah, and he threw me in the dirt and ran away-ah. I ris my eyes to look at my hoss-ah, and there he was a-gallopin' down the road with his mane and tail a-flyin', and he looked back at me and seemed to be sayin', 'Good-by, Brother Crawford-ah; good-by, Brother Crawford-ah.'"

"It is a great pity," remarked Judge LeMonde, "that religion sometimes must run through such rough channels to water the soil of morality and piety when it deserves the best training of mind and voice."

"God can use very ignorant Hardshell preachers in building up his kingdom if their own hearts are right before him," said Jasper Very; "but if they are imposters, they are a disgrace and injury to the sacred calling.

"I met a fellow once across the Ohio River whose name was Sargent. He assumed the name of Halycon Church, and proclaimed himself the millennial messenger. He professed to see visions, fall into trances, and to converse with angels. We had a camp meeting near Marietta, and this fellow came to it. He wanted to preach, and upon being refused pretended to swoon away. One night he lit a cigar and got some powder, and walked away about one hundred yards where stood a large stump. He put the powder on the stump and touched it with his cigar. The flash was seen by many in the camp, and they came up to find Sargent lying on the ground. After a long time he came to, and told the people he had a message from God for them. Seeing so many there, I lit a lantern and went down to investigate. Stepping up to the stump, I smelled the sulphur and saw the mark of the burnt powder, and near the stump lay the cigar. As he was talking to the people, I stepped up to him and asked him if an angel had appeared to him in a flash of light. He said, 'Yes.' 'Sargent,' said I, 'did not that angel smell of brimstone?' 'Why,' said he 'do you ask such a foolish question?' 'Because,' said I, 'if an angel has spoken to you, he was from the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone;' and, raising my voice, I said, 'I smell sulphur now.' I walked to the stump and showed the people his wicked trick. They were very indignant and called him a vile imposter, and soon he left, and we were no more troubled with him and his brimstone angels."

"What a shame that men will take the livery of heaven in which to serve the evil one," said Viola LeMonde. "Hypocrisy is like a counterfeit coin: it is not only worthless in itself, but it also makes men suspect the genuine money."

"Poor Richard says, 'Honesty is the best policy,' and that holds good in preaching as in other things," remarked Larkin.

Jasper Very added: "Men who are dishonest cheat themselves. They narrow their souls. They grasp after a substance and find a shadow. A sure Nemesis follows the present gain. The great poet says: 'Who steals my purse steals trash.'"

"Sam Wiles is a case in point," said Judge LeMonde. "He surely is cheating himself. But what gave him the disposition he possesses? Heredity and environment; and not one man in a thousand will rise out of these. The fellow has some good in him; but it is strangled by his bent and surroundings, like good seed choked by thorns. What say you, Mr. Larkin?"

"There is only one hope for him, that is religion, which he seems to despise and reject. His superior gifts, making him a leader of the moonshine gang, constitute him a greater menace to law-abiding people. The Bengal tiger kills more prey than the common wild-cat which sometimes roams these surrounding woods. I am told that Wiles is the ring leader in many reckless acts, and will stop at nothing to gain his ends. Zibe Turner, called the monster dwarf, is his right-hand man, who will pick his