when we called HIM. His face just looks like one of
those long, narrow stones in the graveyard, doesn't it?
`Sacred to the memory' ought to be written on his
forehead. I shall never forget the first sermon he
preached after he came. It was on the subject of
everyone doing what they were best fitted for--a very
good subject, of course; but such illustrations as he
used! He said, `If you had a cow and an apple tree,
and if you tied the apple tree in your stable and
planted the cow in your orchard, with her legs up, how
much milk would you get from the apple tree, or how
many apples from the cow?' Did you ever hear the like
in your born days, dearie? I was so thankful there
were no Methodists there that day--they'd never have
been done hooting over it. But what I dislike most in
him is his habit of agreeing with everybody, no matter
what is said. If you said to him, `You're a
scoundrel,' he'd say, with that smooth smile of his,
`Yes, that's so.' A minister should have more
backbone. The long and the short of it is, I consider
him a reverend jackass. But, of course, this is just
between you and me. When there are Methodists in
hearing I praise him to the skies. Some folks think
his wife dresses too gay, but _I_ say when she has to
live with a face like that she needs something to cheer
her up. You'll never hear ME condemning a woman for
her dress. I'm only too thankful when her husband
isn't too mean and miserly to allow it. Not that I
bother much with dress myself. Women just dress to
please the men, and I'd never stoop to THAT. I have