Part 31 (2/2)
At this moment Willie diverted the conversation by crying out,
”Sam's pinching me!”
”Oh, I didn't!” said Sam.
”Why do you tell such a story?” demanded Mrs. Royden, with a slight degree of impatience. ”I saw you pinch his arm.”
”I was only brus.h.i.+ng a fly off,” replied Sam.
”He asked me how thick my sleeve was, and he took right hold of skin and all!” whined Willie, rubbing his arm.
Sam was reprimanded and Willie was consoled with rind from his father's plate.
XXVI.
THE RAINY DAY.
Monday was showery. Tuesday was fair, and on Wednesday there was a settled rain. It was anything but fine haying weather. The mowers got down a good deal of gra.s.s, but it was mostly left lying in the swath.
The Roydens took advantage of the dull time to visit at Deacon Dustan's, on Wednesday, with the old clergyman. There was quite a large company present, consisting of old and young people, among the choicest families in Mr. Corlis' society.
After dinner the rain ”held up,” and towards evening the elderly gentlemen of the party went out to walk. Deacon Dustan took great pleasure and no less pride in showing his guests the fairest portions of his goodly estate. Meanwhile he was too shrewd to neglect introducing the discussion of a subject which lay very near his heart.
The company were in excellent humor for a favorable consideration of the project of the new meeting-house; and Mr. Corlis became very eloquent on the subject.
”Come, Neighbor Royden,” cried Deacon Dustan, ”you are the only influential man in the society who has not expressed a decided opinion, one way or the other.”
”It is because I haven't a decided opinion, I suppose,” replied Mr.
Royden, laughing. ”You have heard the case, Father,” he added, turning to the old clergyman: ”what is your opinion?”
”I have hardly come to any conclusion yet,” replied Father Brighthopes.
”I have some ideas about such projects, however.”
”Well, we would thank you to let us hear them, Father,” rejoined Deacon Dustan. ”They must be of value, from your long experience.”
”Is this Job Bowen's house?” asked the old man; for they were walking leisurely past the shoemaker's residence.
”Yes; here lives patient Job, the wooden-legged philosopher,” returned Deacon Dustan, good-humoredly. ”What of him?”
”I was there, the other day, and promised to come again. I don't know when I shall have a better time. After I have said good-day to the family, I will tell you something about new meeting-houses. Will you go in too, Brother Corlis?”
Mr. Corlis could not refuse, although he would much rather have remained without.
”We will all look in at the door, if you please, gentlemen,” said Deacon Dustan. ”Job is a curiosity.”
”I was just thinking that Job's family would have considered a dish from your generous table to-day a very pleasant curiosity,” observed Father Brighthopes.
<script>