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He had brought a
letter from his own Congregational church in his native town, to one of
the large churches of the same sect in New York, and when admitted,
hired a sitting and became a regular attendant at both morning and
evening service. In time this produced a call from his new pastor. It
was the first new friend he had gained in New York. "He seems a quiet,
well-informed fellow," was the clergyman's comment; "I shall make a
point of seeing something of him." But he was pastor of a very large and
rich congregation, and was a hard-worked and hard-entertained man, so
his intention was not realized.
Peter spent Christmastide with his mother, who worried not a little over
his loss of flesh.
"You have been overworking," she said anxiously.
"Why mother, I haven't had a client yet," laughed Peter.
"Then you've worried over not getting on," said his mother, knowing
perfectly well that it was nothing of the sort. She had hoped that Peter
would be satisfied with his six months' trial, but did not mention her
wish.


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