ook there at Mrs. Condiment, sir! The way in which
she worshiped that villain was a sight to behold!" said Old Hurricane,
jumping up and stamping around the tent in fury.

"Oh, Mr. Goodwin, sir, how could I help it when I thought he was such a
precious saint?" whimpered the old lady.

"Yes, sir! when 'his reverence' would be tired with delivering a
long-winded mid-day discourse, Mrs. Condiment, sir, would take him into
her own tent--make him lie down on her own sacred cot, and set my niece
to bathing his head with cologne and her maid to fanning him, while she
herself prepared an iced sherry cobbler for his reverence! Aren't you
ashamed of yourself, Mrs. Condiment, mum!" said Old Hurricane, suddenly
stopping before the poor old woman, in angry scorn.

"Indeed, I'm sure if I'd known it was Black Donald, I'd no more have
suffered him inside of my tent than I would Satan!"

"Demmy, mum, you had Satan there as well! Who but Satan could have
tempted you all to disregard me, your lawful lord and master, as you
every one of you did for that wretch's sake! Hang it, parson, I wasn't
the master of my own house, nor head of my own family! Precious Father
Gray was! Black Donald was! Oh, you shall hear!" cried Old Hurricane,
in a frenzy.

"Pray, sir, be patient and do not blame the women for being no wiser
than you were yourself," said Mr. Goodwin.

"Tah! tah! tah! One act of folly is a contingency to which any man may
for once in his life be liable; but folly is the women's normal condition!
You shall hear! You shall hear! Hang it, sir, everybody had to give way
to Father Gray! Everything was for Father Gray! Precious Father Gray!
Excellent Father Gray! Saintly Father Gray! It was Father Gray here and
Father Gray there, and Father Gray everywhere and always! He ate with
us all day and slept with us all night! The coolest cot in the dryest
nook of the tent at night--the shadiest seat at the table by day--were
always for his reverence! The nicest tit-bits of the choicest dishes--the
middle slices of the fish, the breast of the young ducks, and the wings
of the chickens, the mealiest potatoes, the juiciest tomatoes, the
tenderest roasting ear, the most delicate custard, and freshest fruit
always for his reverence! I had to put up with the necks of poultry,
and the tails of fishes, watery potatoes, specked apples and scorched
custards--and if I dared to touch anything better before his precious
reverence had eaten and was filled,