CHAPTER VIII. 



MINOR MUD AND WATER FOLK. 



" By being" seldom seen, I could not stir 

 But like a comet I was wondered at." 



King Henri/' IV \ 



A WHILE ago I heard of a heroic act of self- 

 sacrifice. A neighbor of mine, a good -hearted 

 youth, is an enthusiast about bugs. He is also a 

 member of that institution of the nineteenth cen- 

 tury, the Salvation Army. 



One evening, when he with some other mem- 

 bers was holding a street-meeting, and was just 

 in the act of kneeling for prayer, the eyes of this 

 person fell on a bug, or beetle. Perhaps it was 

 an emissary of Satan to tempt my neighbor, but 

 at all events it was a new bug to him. He could 

 not have helped seeing the insect in the light on 

 the street, but it was an awkward moment for 

 such a discovery. Should he seize that bug, or 

 remain in a reverent attitude ? 



Devoutness conquered, and the bug escaped. 

 Perhaps a scorner of bugs might think this a 

 trivial act of self-denial, but a bug-hunter could 

 have given no better proof of religious earnest- 

 ness. 



