hack.

Below them the minister's deep voice tolled on solemnly. They could not
catch all the words.

"Come on! I'm going to sit up like folks. I want to hear what he's
saying," Jot whispered after awhile.

They smoothed their hair and tried to straighten collars and ties, and
then suddenly some of the people down below in the body of the church
glanced up and saw two boyish faces, side by side, in the gallery. The
puzzle was beyond unraveling. The women prodded each other gently with
their parasol tips and raised their eyebrows. The men looked blank.
When had those youngsters got up there in that pew? One of the deacons
scowled a little, but the two quiet brown faces allayed his suspicions.
It wasn't mischief--it was mystery.

The sight that had met Jot's astonished eyes in the beginning was a
quaint one. This was a new kind of a church! At home there were rows
upon rows of red-cushioned seats, with the hymn books and fans in the
racks making the only break to the monotony. Here the pews were all
little square rooms with high partitions and doors. The hard board
seats ran 'way round them all, so that in some of them people were
sitting directly "back to" the minister! Rows on rows of the little
rooms, like cells, jutted against each other and filled up the entire
space below save the aisles and the pulpit.

[Illustration: This was a new kind of church.]

And the pulpit! Jot's eyes returned to it constantly in wondering