I was glad of it, and in my innermost heart said "Amen!"
By and by a man got up to exhort. He must have been brought up as a clerk in some thread-needle store, I should think, by the way he measured off his long, rolling sentences, that seemed to come through the bung-hole of an empty cider barrel; and his arms went spreading out with each sentence, as if he were measuring tape, and meant to give enough of it.
"Who is that?" says I, whispering to Cousin E. E.
"That," says she, "is a gentleman from ——."
"No doubt he's a member," says I; "how earnest he seeks for protection!"
"Of course he is a member or they wouldn't let him speak," whispers she.
"I know that," says I. "The Presbyterians don't allow any but members to speak in their meeting, of course; but it seems to me they do a great deal more talking than praying here, or singing either."
"Oh, I don't believe any one but the chaplain ever thinks of praying here, and he cuts it short as pie-crust."
"Don't be irreverent," says I.
Cousin E. E. got up from her seat; so did Dempster.