ke, 'you fetch 'er heer an' set 'er
down whar she wus a minute ago, an' I'll put a plaster on 'er back
that'll make 'er _think_ she's shoutin' whether she is or not.'

"Well, I went to whar she was outside an' tol' 'er Brother Mitchell
wanted to see 'er. 'I jest ain't a-goin' a step,' sez she, 'so I
ain't,' an' she looked sorter suspicious.

"'Well, I don't railly see how yo're goin' to help yorese'f, Mis'
Dawson,' sez I. 'Goodness knows yo're showin' mighty little int'rust
in the meetin' anyways. Looks like you wouldn't insult one of the most
saintly men we got by turnin' yore back on 'im. Mebby he wants to ax
about startin' a meetin' over yore way. You'd better go.'

"That settled it; I took 'er back an' set 'er down by him, an' he begun
to git in his work. I never knowed a man called to preach could be so
mealy-mouthed. He begun--you see I was next to him an' could ketch
ev'ry word, although thar was jest a regular hullabaloo o' shoutin' an'
singin' goin' on all about--he begun by goin' over his own family
trouble, an' I wanted to laugh out, fer the Lord knows, while Brother
Tim's folks has had _some_ few ordinary reverses, an' _did_ lose a few
head o' stock in the war, an' one o' the gals married a no-'count
Yankee carpenter an' never would write back home, an' Brother
Mitchell's ma an' pa died uv ripe old age--but, as I say, nobody ever
thought they wus particular unfortunate. Howsomever, she thought they
wus from his tale an' his sad, mournful way o' talkin'. Job an' all he
went through, b'iles an' all, wasn't a circumstance, an' it was all the
Lord's doin's, Brother Tim said, to show him the true light. I seed
she was listenin' an' that he had hold uv 'er some, but I kinder
thought she wusn't as easy prey as he 'lowed, fer he broke down once in
awhile an' had a sort o' sickly, quivery look about the mouth. All at
once he turned to me as mad as a hornet. Sez he: 'It's that dern
bonnet,'--no, he didn't say that exactly. I heer Luke say them things
so much 'at his words slip in when I'm in a hurry--'it's that bonnet o'
her'n, Sister Bradley,' sez he. 'I'll never git 'er in a wearin' way
as long as that poke keeps bobbin' up an' down twixt me 'n her eyes.
Cayn't you manage to git it off?'

"Well, you kin imagine that wus a difficult thing to do, but I reckon
the Lord o' Hosts must 'a' been with us, fer all at once a idee come to
me an' I jest leaned over to her. 'Sister Dawson,' sez I, 'I beg yore