48 
ALMOST HUMAN 
A FORCEFUL PREACHER, 
Years ago there was a quaint old man at the gate who was much 
interested in theology. He was a local preacher on Sundays, and on week- 
days he would argue abstruse theological questions with a friend who 
used to visit him assiduously. The two would “wrastle” with, and settle, 
problems that have mystified the great minds of all the ages, and as 
they disputed they had the pedagogue’s habit of shaking a wise index 
finger at the other’s stupidity. Jacob was tremendously interested in 
these unending controversies. He could not distinguish what they were 
saying, but he could hear the tones of their voices as they rose and fell 
disputatiously, and he always knew when one had made a perfectly un- 
answerable point by the serious chuckle that he would give at seeing his 
friend confounded. After a few years of this diet Jacob knew their 
arguments — or the sound of them, from A to Z. He learned every trick 
of voice, every cadence, every gesture, every pause, every chuckle, and 
every ending. He began, at first cautiously, and then more confidently, 
to relieve his own tedium with rehearsals of these confabulations, and 
when he found that this made most entertaining sport for those who 
knew the two old friends, he gained all the assurance he needed, and 
since then he has been a most excellent preacher. He composes his face 
and form to a befitting seriousness, then with one foot gravely raised 
he begins to talk slowly, dogmatically stating views which are, from 
the very nature of the case, incontrovertibly true. Then comes the 
rather timid reply, warming up as it gains in length, and as the uplifted 
foot begins to impress the righteousness of his arguments upon the 
speaker himself. Anon comes the first argument repeated, for argument 
in a circle was the strong point of both worthies, and they believed if 
they but repeated their assertions a given number of times, they must 
carry conviction. At last confusion covers one like a garment, and 
Jacob knows this is the grand peroration to all discourses, and so he 
lets out a mighty chuckle of triumph. This being the only “lastly” he 
knows, he ends his sermon for the day, well pleased with the result of 
his efforts. 
OUT OF THE PULPIT. 
Where men and boys are concerned Jacob has a bad character. He 
is. however, most chivalrous with ladies — but he knows that not all who 
are dressed like ladies deserve to be called so. Quite recently a woman 
passing his cage shook her umbrella at him and scolded him — evidently 
in memory of their last meeting. He returned her insult with interest. 
Summoning up all the energy he had stored up in his body, he screeched 
