"Foh de Lor' sake!" Mandy gasped, as she stood panting for breath
and blinking at the pretty, young, apple-faced Julia; "I was suah
most gone dat time." Then followed another outburst against the
delinquent Hasty.
But the deacon's daughter did not hear; her eyes were already
wandering anxiously to the lights and the tinsel of the little
world beyond the window.
This was not the first time to-day that Mandy had found herself
talking to space. There had been a steady stream of callers at
the parsonage since eleven that morning, but she had long ago
confided to the pastor that she suspected their reasons.
"Dey comes in here a-trackin' up my floors," she said, "and
a-askin' why you don' stop de circus from a-showin' nex' to de
church and den a-cranin' afar necks out de winder, till I can't
get no housework done."
"That's only human nature," Douglas had answered with a laugh;
but Mandy had declared that she knew another name for it, and had
mumbled something about "hypocritters," as she seized her broom
and began to sweep imaginary tracks from in front of the door.
Many times she had made up her mind to let the next caller know
just what she thought of "hypocritters," but her determination
was usually weakened by her still greater desire to excite
increased wonder in the faces of her visitors.
Pages:
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37