"
"She's innnocent as a kitten," observed Mrs. Day impartially.
"Oh, yes, she's innocent enough an' I hope she'll keep so!
Waitstill's a sight han'somer, if the truth was told; but she's
the sort of girl that's made for one man and the rest of em never
look at her. The other one's cut out for the crowd, the more the
merrier. She's a kind of man-trap, that girl is!--Do urge the
horse a little mite, Bartholomew! It makes me kind o' hot to be
passed by Deacon Baxter. It's Missionary Sunday, too, when he
gen'ally has rheumatism too bad to come out."
"I wonder if he ever puts anything into the plate," said Mrs.
Day. "No one ever saw him, that I know of."
"The Deacon keeps the Thou Shalt Not commandments pretty well,"
was Aunt Abby's terse response. "I guess he don't put nothin'
into the plate, but I s'pose we'd ought to be thankful he don't
take nothin' out. The Baptists are gettin' ahead faster than
they'd ought to, up to the Mills. Our minister ain't no kind of a
proselyter, Seems as if he didn't care how folks got to heaven so
long as they got there! The other church is havin' a service this
afternoon side o' the river, an' I'd kind o' like to go, except
it would please 'em too much to have a crowd there to see the
immersion.
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