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“Their way is blocked up, and the light is dim over their heads. Religion and Education is the light that is goin’ ahead on ’em; but that piller of fire is some ways ahead of ’em, and its rays are hindered by the branchin’ shadows over their heads. And who will be the Moses to lead ’em out of this wilderness into their own land?”

I wuz almost entirely by the side of myself with deep emotions of pity and sympathy and a desire to help ’em, and I felt riz up, too, in my mind—awful riz up—and I spoke out agin, entirely onbeknown to myself:

“Who will be the Moses to lead ’em into the Promised Land?”

“Wall, it won’t be me,” sez Josiah. “I am goin’ out to bed down the horses.”

I wuz took aback, and brung down too sudden from the Mount of Eloquence I had been standin’ on.

And I put on my nightcap and went to bed.

Now, I don’t spoze you would believe it—most anybody wouldn’t—but the very next mornin’ Josiah Allen resoomed and took up that conversation agin, that I fondly hoped he had thrown down for good when he so suddenly departed to the horse barn.