There was a soft clapping of hands as she sat down.
“That’s the right spirit, Madam President,” said the lady who had made the motion. “Let us frankly own up to this spirited woman that we see this thing as we never saw it before, and that we are debtors to her for the awakening.”
“Madam President,”—this was the donor of one of the vests, who was under an abiding sense of gratitude that nobody knew it,—“I will add to the cloak which Mrs. Caffrey has so generously donated a new overcoat for the minister. I give it as a thank-offering.” This lady’s husband had recently recovered from a severe illness and this was erroneously taken as a touching allusion to that fact.
The bidding was lively now. The spirit of giving had taken possession of the First Church, and a burning desire to set themselves right. The secretary was kept busy taking down the items, for it was to be no haphazard work this time.
“Madam President,”—it was the treasurer’s voice,—“as you know, I don’t believe in missionary boxes—they are too often substitutes for the salaries we owe and haven’t paid—and I have said that I would never contribute to one; but I’ve got to put in five pounds of candy for those children if my principles go to smash.”
There was loud and prolonged applause from all present.
“Now, ladies,” said the chair, when the shower of books, toys, sleds, skates, etc., precipitated by this offer had subsided, “who will volunteer to pack this box? I foresee that it will be quite a task.”
Then up rose the lady who had packed the barrel.
“I’ll pack the box. I said I wouldn’t, but I will. If Mrs. Outcault’s principles have gone to smash, it isn’t worth while for me to try to hold on to mine! And—I will pay the freight myself—as a trespass-offering.... No, Madam President, I don’t want your check.”
When the merriment had subsided the treasurer took the floor.