CHAPTER XV


Every Sunday morning Mr. Samuel Wright and Mr. Thomas Dilworth--the
one pale and pompous, the other rosy and smiling--took up the
collection in St. Michael's. A mahogany pole with a black velvet pouch
on one end, was thrust solemnly into each pew, then drawn back with
very personal pauses--which were embarrassing if you had forgotten to
put some change into your glove before starting for church. When these
poles had raked every pew, they were carried up the aisle to Dr.
Lavendar, who, taking hold of the purple tassel on the bottom of each
bag, turned the contents into a silver plate. The change came out with
a fine clatter; we children used to keep awake on purpose to hear it.
Once in a while a bill would rustle out with the silver and balance on
the top. of the little heap in such an exciting way that Dr. Lavendar
had to put his hand over it to keep it from blowing off as he carried
the plate to the communion-table--we did not say "altar" in Old
Chester. This done, Mr. Wright and Mr. Dilworth would tiptoe solemnly
back to their respective pews. When the service was over the senior
warden always counted the money. On this summer Sunday morning, when
he went into the vestry for that purpose, he found Dr. Lavendar just
hanging up his black gown behind the door.

"Dr. Lavendar," said the senior warden, "you will, I am sure, be
pleased when I inform you that there is a good collection. Mrs. Richie
put in a five-dollar bill."

"Well," said Dr. Lavendar, "we need it. Your father sent me a check
the other day; but we need some more."