.
It'll soon be better, now, for I was bathing it in this cream that Mrs.
Beaver give me."

"Bathing his foot in--what?"

"Cream. It takes the soreness out."

"Clemmie, you're a wonder! But if that cream come from Eadie's I
cal'late it won't be none too healing."

"I've been talking to the minister about the services," she said,
placing the crock on the table. "The Ladies' Aid meets this afternoon.
I'm going."

"You'd best get a life-preserver on."

"Josiah, you shouldn't talk like that. They do a lot of good. I ain't
been to one for years. It's so Christian and nice to do things for
others. That's what Aid means, aiding some one else."

"If I ain't 'way off, most of the aiding business runs to the tongues of
them present. Most women lean to tongue, excepting you, Clemmie."

"Josiah, you ain't fit for the minister to live with! You shouldn't talk
like that about the business of the Lord."

"Cal'late I am sort of a heathen. But I'll wager that you'll find them
there aiders interested in some things aside the business of the Lord."

Miss Pipkin left him and hurried into the kitchen for broom and duster.

It was late in the afternoon when she had finished her house-cleaning,
and sailed forth in the direction of the church. The Captain was
sitting on the front steps of the chapel, and rose to meet her as she
turned in at the gate.

"I hope the meeting ain't over," she said, breathless.

"Just got her off the ways, I'd say," he commented, jerking his head
toward an open window through which came the sound of many voices.
"You'd best tell 'em where you're staying, Clemmie, or you're li'ble to
hear some things not intended for your ears."

She bridled past him and swept into the church. There was a brief pause
in the buzz, but the hubbub that followed was doubled in intensity.

That evening while Miss Pipkin was placing the food on the table she
appeared worried. She inquired solicitously concerning the minister's
ankle, but there was a distant polite tone in her voice. After supper
she asked the Captain to dry the dishes for her, and went to the
kitchen. The seaman took his place at the sink only to have the cloth
snatched from his hand.

"Josiah,"--she whispered,--"close that door to the dining-room, I've got
something to ask you."

"Ain't you going to let me dry them dishes for you?"

"Of course not."

The door was closed, and the Captain came back to the sink.

"What's wrong with Mr. McGowan?"