"Mercy!" exclaimed Marie Jean Hennesy. Then she added haughtily, "I shall not call upon them."
[CHAPTER V]
A LOAD OF DIRT
“Nor knowest thou what argument
Thy life to thy neighbour’s creed hath lent.”
IT was Saturday morning and a great hammering was going on in the Hennesy yard. Whenever the hammering ceased for a moment, a boyish whistle took its place. It was a cheerful whistle and an infectious one. The minister in his study was working up his sermon for Sunday morning. It was called "The Simple Life," but it was growing all too complex and knotty, and the minister leaned back in his chair with relaxed muscles and contemplated his work with a troubled air. The whistle burst into song and floated in through the window with the sunshine:
"Ev'ry Sunday, down to her home we go,—
All the girls and all the boys they love her so:
Always jolly,—heart that is true, I know,—
She's the sunshine of Paradise Al-ley."
The minister sat straight again and dipped his pen in the ink. Life was so simple after all. "Love ye one another and keep my commandments." The sermon smoothed itself out and flowed evenly along to the tune of "Paradise Alley."