But I knew you just the same. You
can't fool J.P. Wamsley. You see, there's a peculiar air about a man
that's accustomed to handle any particular line of goods. You can tell
'em all, if you'll just notice,--any of 'em,--white-goods counter,
lawyer, doctor, travelin' man, politician, railroad,--every one of 'em's
got his sign out, and it don't take a Sherlock Holmes to read it,
neither. It's the same way with them gospel goods. You'll excuse me, but
when I saw you come in here and light a cigar, with an air of
I-will-now-give-you-a-correct-imitation-of-a-human-being, I says to
myself, 'There's one of my gospel friends.' Murder will out, as the
feller says.
"Experience, did you say? I must have had considerable experience? Well,
I guess yes! Didn't you never hear of my invention, Wamsley's Automatic
Pastor, Self-feedin' Preacher and Lightning Caller? Say, that was the
hottest scheme ever. I'll tell you about it.
"You see, it's this way. I'm not a church member myself--believe in it,
you know, and all that sort of thing,--I'm for religion strong, and when
it comes to payin' I'm right there with the goods. My wife is a member,
and a good one; in fact, she's so blame good that we average up pretty
well.
"Well, one day they elected me to the board of trustees at the church;
because I was the heaviest payer, I suppose.
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