But I think he shows taste in preferring old Gillespie to Peter Hingston;
next to Abe Reverdy he's the biggest fool in Leatherwood. Maybe the
prophet knew by instinct that there would be better fried chicken at
Gillespie's."

His wife disdained to make a direct answer. "You may be sure they give
him of their best, whatever it is. And the Gillespies may be poor, but
when it comes to respectability and good works they've got a right to hold
their heads up with the best in this settlement. That girl has done all
the work of the house since her mother died, when she wasn't a little
thing half grown; and old David has slaved off his mortgage till his
farm's free and clear; and he don't owe anybody a cent."

"Oh, I don't say anything against Gillespie; all I say is that Brother
Dylks knows which side his bread is buttered on; inspired, probably."

"What makes you so bitter, to-night, Matthew?" his wife halted him a
little, with her question.

"Well, the Temple always leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I hate to see
brethren agreeing together in unity. You oughtn't to have taken me,
Martha."

"I'll never take you again!" she said.

"And that man's a rascal, if ever there was one. Real men of God don't
wear their hair down to their waists and come snorting and shouting in
black broadcloth to a settlement like this for the good of folks' souls."

"You've got no right to say that, Matthew. And if you go round talking