oys working on log hauling,
sitting around in the shade of the church wall, after doing their
work, swilling whisky out of the neck of a bottle, and guessed it
wasn't decent. I've written her asking her to send two boys to do the
work in their place. Guess she hasn't replied. Katherine L. Sherman,
who guesses she's related to the real Shermans, and has had twins
twice in three years, writes: 'When are we goin' to arrange for a
christening font?' I handed her this. 'When folks needing it see their
way clear to unrolling their bank wads.' Then there's Mrs. Andy
Carlton, who's felt high-toned ever since she bought that second-hand
top buggy from Mary Porson. She guesses we need a bell. I told her
that if the people of Rocky Springs tried ringing their way to glory,
it would be liable to alarm folks there. Best way would be to try and
sneak in, and not shout they were coming. Then I heard from Mary
Porson, herself. She wants to know who's to keep the boys who're drunk
out of service, and wouldn't it be better to hold Meeting on Monday,
so's the boys could get over the Saturday night souse in comfort. I
told her she seemed to have a wrong idea of the folks of this village.
I guessed if any feller got around to Meeting with liquor under his
belt, there was liable to be a lynching right away. The boys wouldn't
stand for any ungentlemanly conduct at Meeting. Then there's Mrs.
Annerly-Jones. Having a hyphen to her name, she's all for white
surplices and organized singing. She figures to start up a full choir,
and sing the solos herself. I hinted that the choir racket wasn't to
be despised, but solo work was liable to cause ill-feeling in the
village by making folks think the singer was getting the start of them
in the chase for glory. And, anyway, the old harmonium wasn't a match
for her voice. Then there's a suggestion for cuspidors for each bench,
and I must say, right here, I'm in favor of them. I'm not one to
interfere with the disgusting ways of men. Men are just men, and can't
help it, anyway, and if they contract filthy habits, it's not for
woman to put 'em right. But she's got the right to refuse having her
skirts turned into floor swabs. I've fixed all these things right, so
we don't need to vote on 'em. But there's one little matter that needs
discussing right here and now, seeing that the folks are present
who've brought it up."

The president paused and glared at the two men through her big,
steel-rimmed glasses, an