"Quite a romance!" said Kite, laughing.
"And now I'll tell you another thing," said Tom, "that I'm bound to reform. There's a canting, sneaking, dribbling, whining old priest, that's ravaging these parts and getting up a muss among people about the abuses of the slaves; and I'm not going to have it. I'm going to shut up his mouth. I shall inform him, pretty succinctly, that, if he does much more in this region, he'll be illustrated with a coat of tar-and-feathers."
"Good for you!" said Kite.
"Now," said Tom, "I understand that to-night he is going to have a general snivelling season in the old log church, out on the cross run, and they are going to form a church on anti-slavery principles. Contemptible whelps! Not a copper to bless themselves with! Dirty, sweaty, greasy mechanics, with their spawn of children! Think of the impudence of their getting together and passing anti-slavery resolutions, and resolving they won't admit slave-holders to the communion! I have a great mind to let them try the dodge, once! By George, if I wouldn't walk up and take their bread and wine, and pitch it to thunder!"
"Are they really going to form such a church?"
"That's the talk," said Tom. "But they'll find they have reckoned without their host, I fancy! You see, I just tipped Jim Stokes the wink. Says I, 'Jim, don't you think they'll want you to help the music there, to-night?' Jim took at once; and he said he would be on the ground with a dog or two, and some old tin pans. Oh, we shall get them up an orchestra, I promise you! And some of our set are going over to see the fun. There's Bill Akers, and Bob Story, and Sim Dexter, will be over here to dinner, and towards evening we'll ride over."