so severely did I denounce the minister. Louis sat in silence, also his
mother, but aunt Hildy spoke as follows, after waiting a few moments to
see if any one else had pent up wrath to give vent to:

"Well, as the youngest has spoke, I suppose I may express my feelin's,
and I must say I never heerd a worse sermon. I have been a steddy
meetin-goer for forty years, and have tried to hold a peaceful spirit
that would be jest such as the Master would recommend if he was among
us; but I believe we all allow we are sinners more or less, and after
all do daily the things we should not do. Still if anybody wanted my
help, I should hate to have 'em chase me with a broomstick, for I
couldn't do a thing for 'em if they did; and if we think anybody is
going into a ditch of a wrong idee, we'd better not scare 'em to death
hollerin at 'em, it would be apt to send 'em in head first, while if we
could kinder creep along behind, and speak a few words kindly, they
would turn round, and we could tell 'em of their danger." Her similes
were original, and we involuntarily smiled an approval of her sentiment,
when Mr. Benton said:

"Do you not think the fear of hell helps to hold people in the right
path sometimes, Mrs. Patten?" Aunt Hildy looked at him with a wondrous
light in her eyes, as she answered:

"_No, sir_, I don't; my Bible says perfect love casteth out fear. The
woman that's afraid of her husband can't love him if she dies for it,
and the boy who hates his father through fear, can't muster up respect
enough to love him if he tries." And her knitting needles clicked again
as if to say, "that's the truth."

A few moments and then Clara spoke (Aunt Hildy stopped knitting the