THE sun is free of the ridges. It has shaken off the lone pine that stands out so boldly there in the clearing, and is soaring off over the mountains to the south. It is time for preaching. The clock would point the hour of eight, and the churchman of the town would hardly yet be considering his breakfast, but here in our little Pennsylvania valley we know that when the sun has cleared that solemn old tree it is time to be hitching, for five dusty miles lie between us and the Dunker meeting-house. The road is a hard one, too. From where it leaves the pike at the covered bridge to where it skirts the berrypatch at the crest of the hill, we can see every foot of it standing out white and hot against the green slope. There are three more climbs like that before we reach our journey's end, but why count the cost when we are to hear a young brother from "Ioway"; and these brethren from a distance are always better talkers than our home product. The mere fact that they have travelled from " Ioway" shows that they have seen the world and will have something new to tell us.

white farm-house with the gates of blue. Within those blue gates the Amish are to worship, and, if their ancient custom had its inception in truth, one could not choose a better place, for it has been hallowed by the visit of many a passing angel, who, marking the heavenly hue of the entrance, has stepped inside to bless the home there.

So the valley is awake to its Sabbath duties. From its every quarter, along its every road, the rockaways are crawling. They meet at the covered bridge; they move solemnly up the long hill; and our church parade is on. How different it is from that famous one that swings along Fifth Avenue every Sunday, when the human pea-fowl of every class strut and spread their plumage! Here simplicity is the effect to be obtained, for the keynote of the teaching of these sombre folk is humility. There, for instance, is the Dunker bishop of the district. He drives a fat horse with a monstrous curly mane, and the good animal ambles along as though really anxious to make time, but fears to be seen running on Sunday. The brother sits well back in his vehicle, and is almost hidden from view by the dust-coated side-curtains, but still we can see his great black hat, with its high, cylindrical crown and broad, flat brim. It looks hot these summer days, but it is well in keeping with his heavy brown coat, which has a straight, clerical collar, close buttoned at the throat, is cut away well in front, and sweeps into broad tails behind. The bishop's hair is Copyright, 1901, by Charles Scribner's Sons. All rights reserved.

But all the valley is not going to Dunker preaching. The little brick meetinghouse over the ridge would not hold onehalf the pious folk that are to journey along that road to-day. Many will pass it and go on to the grove where the great Mennonite bush-meeting is on; or to the barn where the River Brethren gather for their simple service of devotion, or to the