The big jam factory loomed up dark against the starlit sky, but over in the little meeting-house of the Plum-street Brethren, across the vacant allot ment, the windows shone with a brilliant radiance.

Outside the locked doors a group of women, with shawls thrown over their heads, stood in a listen ing attitude, bending down now and then in a vague attempt to see something of the interior through the key-hole.

Inside, despite the brilliantly lighted lamps, the place was empty, with the exception of half-a-dozen venerable-looking men who sat around in a half circle upon the platform facing the aisle.

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