“Well, I regret this unfortunate encounter, and to have been forced to listen to the unguarded vituperation of my rector.” With which retort he departed.
Soon after Nelson had left, Mrs. Burke called in, and Betty gave her a highly amusing and somewhat colored version of the interview.
“You know, I think that our theological seminaries don’t teach budding parsons all they ought to, by any means,” she concluded.
“I quite agree with you, Betty dear; and I thank my stars for college athletics,” laughed Maxwell, squaring up to the tent-pole.
“What did I tell you,” reminded Hepsey, “when you had all those books up in your room at my place. It’s just as important for a country parson to know how to make a wiped-joint or run a chicken farm or pull teeth, as it is to study church history and theology. A parson’s got to live somehow, and a trade school ought to be attached to every seminary, according to my way of thinking! St. Paul made tents, 223 and wasn’t a bit ashamed of it. Well I’m mighty glad that Bascom has got come up with for once. Don’t you give in, and it will be my turn to make the next move, if this don’t bring him to his senses. You just wait and see.”
