"Oh, set me up on a rock!" screamed one.
"I's sot up!" screamed another.
"Glory!" cried the third, and a tempest of "amens" poured in between.
"I's got a sperience!" cried one, and forthwith began piping it out in a high key, while others kept on singing.
"I's got a sperience!" shouted Tomtit, whom Aunt Rose, with maternal care, had taken with her.
"No, you an't neither! Sit down!" said Aunt Rose, kneading him down as if he had been a batch of biscuits, and going on at the same time with her hymn.
"I's on the Rock of Ages!" screamed a neighbor.
"I want to get on a rock edgeways!" screamed Tomtit, struggling desperately with Aunt Rose's great fat hands.
"Mind yourself!—I'll crack you over!" said Aunt Rose. And Tomtit, still continuing rebellious, was cracked over accordingly, with such force as to send him head-foremost on the straw at the bottom of the tent; an indignity which he resented with loud howls of impotent wrath, which, however, made no impression in the general whirlwind of screaming, shouting, and praying.
Nina and Uncle John stood at the tent-door laughing heartily. Clayton looked on with his usual thoughtful gravity of aspect. Anne turned her head away with an air of disgust.