She turned the leaves quickly again.
“And now I want to read you the verse that seems to me to tell how God likes us to keep the Sabbath. ‘If thou turn away thy foot from the sabbath, from doing 151 thy pleasure on my holy day; and call the sabbath a delight’––you see, Leslie, He doesn’t want it to be a dull, poky day. He wants us to call it a delight. And yet we are to find our pleasure in Him, and not in the things that belong just to ourselves. Listen: ‘a delight, the holy of the Lord, honorable; and shalt honor him, not doing thine own ways, nor finding thine own pleasure, nor speaking thine own words: then shalt thou delight thyself in the Lord; and I will cause thee to ride upon the high places of the earth, and feed thee with the heritage of Jacob thy father; for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it.’”
Leslie suddenly threw her head in Julia Cloud’s lap right over the Bible, and looked up into her face with an exquisite earnestness all her own.
“Cloudy Jewel, it sounds all different from anything I ever heard of, and I don’t know how to do it; but something inside says it ought to be true, and I’m going to try it!” she said. “Anyhow, we’ve had a grand time this afternoon, and it hasn’t been a bit dull. Do you suppose maybe we’ve been ‘delighting’ in Him this afternoon? But there goes the supper bell, and I’m hungry as a bear. How about that, Cloudy? Is it right to cook on Sunday? That place you read about the man who picked up sticks to make a fire in camp doesn’t sound like it.”
“Well, dear, you know in the old times we always got the Sunday cooking and baking done on Saturday, just as the Lord told the Israelites to do. I haven’t any business to judge other people, and every one must decide for himself what is necessary and what is not, I suppose; but, as for me, I like to do as mother always did. I always have the cake-box and bread-box full of 152 nice fresh things, and make a pie, perhaps, and cook a piece of meat, or have some salad in the ice-box; and then it is the work of but a few minutes to get the nicest kind of a meal on Sunday. It is easy to have a beefsteak to broil, or cold meat, or something to warm up in a minute if one cares enough to get it ready; and it really makes a lovely, restful time on Sunday to know all that work is done. Besides, it isn’t any harder. I like it.”
Allison gathered up the rug and books, and they walked slowly toward the inn, watching the wonderful colorings of the foliage they passed, and drinking in all the woodsy odors and gentle sounds of dying leaves and dropping nuts.
“Say, Cloudy,” said Allison suddenly out of the midst of his thoughtfulness, “why don’t the ministers preach about all this? I had to go to church a lot when I was in prep school, and I never yet heard a sermon on it. Or, if I did, it was so dull I didn’t get the hang of it. But I should think if they preached about it just as you’ve done, made it plain so people could understand, that most folks, that is, the ones who wanted to do half right, would see to it that Sunday wasn’t so rotten.”
“Well, Allison,” said Julia Cloud, a soft smile playing dreamfully about her lips, “perhaps they don’t realize the need. Perhaps it’s ‘up to you,’ as you say, to somehow wake them up and set them at it.”
Allison drew a long whistle and grinned as they went into the house.