written expectancy. Deacon Gramps presided of course. He arose from his
seat, flung his quid of tobacco out of the window, squared himself
against the pulpit, adjusted his eyeglasses near the point of his nose,
and looking over them he addressed the assembly thus: "My brethering and
sistern, we have met as members of the grand old Mount Olivet Church.
Here in this church our fathers met. Here in this church our mothers
met. Here in this church our grandfathers met. Here in this church our
grandmothers met. Here in this church, my brethering, we have met. And
let me say to you, my dear people, that we have met here tonight in this
church for a purpose. There are certain people in this community whose
aim is to tear up this church; certain people, I say, whose aim is to
tear down this church. There is a certain doctring--the doctring of
holiness--getting into this community. This holiness doctring, my
friends, is a devilish doctring, my brethering, and must be wiped out."
(Amens all over the house.)

All this the Deacon said, and much more. He began his speech with
considerable warmth of utterance, but as he progressed in praises of
Mount Olivet and her faith he waxed hotter and hotter until his
spellbound hearers were fairly deluged in a mighty avalanche of his
rustic oratory, and he wound up with the sweeping statement that the
doctrine of holiness must be abolished from the face of the earth.

When the Deacon had finished, and regained breath enough to put the
matter to a vote, it was unanimously voted that Preacher Bonds should be
secured at the earliest date possible.