heaven and hell in their fitten places, what's a thing this younger
generation don't know how to do any more, it seems like. A sermon that
sets up heaven like a circus tent, with a come-sinner-come-all sign,
and digs hell no deeper than Mill Creek swimming pool, as is skeercely
over a boy's middle, ain't no sermon at all to my mind. Most preaching
in Sweetbriar are like that nowadays."

"But Brother Robards had a mighty sweet voice and he gave the call of
God's love so as to draw answers from all hearts," said Miss Amanda in
her own sweet little voice, as she jabbed in the beans with her right
hand and drew the dirt over them with her left.

"Yes, husband was a little inclined to preach from Psalms more'n good
rousing Proverbs, but I always belt him to the main meat of the Gospel
and only let him feed the flock on the sweets of faith in proper
proportion," answered Miss Lavinia, with an echo in her voice of the
energy expended in keeping the presiding elder to a Jeremiah rather
than a David rôle in his ministry.

"It was a mighty blow to the Methodist Church when he was taken away
so young," said Miss Amanda gently. "I know I said then that they
never would be--"

"Lands alive, if here ain't Miss Viney and Miss Amandy out planting
the jack beans and I ain't got down not a square foot of summer
turnip greens!" exclaimed a hearty voice as Mrs. Rucker hurried up
across the yard to the garden gate. "Now I know I'm a behind-hander,
for my ground's always ready, and in go the greens when you all turn
spade for the bean vines. Are you a-looking for a little job of
plowing, Mr. Mark? I'd put Mr. Rucker at it, but he give his left