You kin
see the evil of old coots traffickin' in rumors.... What you've heard
the boy tell is all true.... That's the girl you was ready to tar and
feather and run out of town.... Now what you think of yourselves?"
It was Deacon Pettybone, blinking a mist from his watery blue eyes, who
arose to the moment. "Folks," he said, huskily, "I'm goin' to pass among
you directly, carryin' the collection plate. 'Tain't fer furrin
missions. It's fer that child yonder--to git them legs fixed.... And
standin' here I want to acknowledge to sin in public. I been hard, and
lackin' in charity. I been passin' jedgments, contrairy to God's word. I
been stiff-backed and obdurate, and I calc'late they's others a-sittin'
here that needs prayers for forgiveness.... Now I'm a-comin' with the
plate. Them that hain't prepared to give to-night kin whisper to me what
they'll give to-morrer--and have no fear of my forgittin' the amounts
they pledge.... And I'm askin' forgiveness of the young woman and hopin'
she won't hold it ag'in' an old man--when she settles down here amongst
us, like I hope she'll do."
"Like she's a-goin' to do," said Jason Locker, with a voice and air of
pride.
Pages:
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387