thinking that it was a great pity they picked that particular
evening. It was truly blood-curdling to hear them sitting there
in that abode of the dead, shouting that frivolous song at the
tops of their lungs."

"I don't know what YOU were doing in a Methodist prayer meeting,"
said Miss Cornelia acidly.

"I have never found that Methodism was catching," retorted Susan
stiffly. "And, as I was going to say when I was interrupted,
badly as I felt, I did NOT give in to the Methodists. When Mrs.
Deacon Baxter said, as we came out, 'What a disgraceful
exhibition!' _I_ said, looking her fairly in the eye, 'They are
all beautiful singers, and none of YOUR choir, Mrs. Baxter, ever
bother themselves coming out to your prayer meeting, it seems.
Their voices appear to be in tune only on Sundays!' She was
quite meek and I felt that I had snubbed her properly. But I
could have done it much more thoroughly, Mrs. Dr. dear, if only
they had left out _Polly Wolly Doodle_. It is truly terrible to
think of that being sung in a graveyard."

"Some of those dead folks sang _Polly Wolly Doodle_ when they
were living, Susan. Perhaps they like to hear it yet," suggested
Gilbert.

Miss Cornelia looked at him reproachfully and made up her mind
that, on some future occasion, she would hint to Anne that the
doctor should be admonished not to say such things. They might
injure his practice. People might get it into their heads that
he wasn't orthodox. To be sure, Marshall said even worse things