“No, Sam,” Septimus replied gravely. “This is not a time for billiards. I think I shall go to church on Sunday. It is time to turn our thoughts to higher things. I nearly got killed two years ago, an’ since then I not taking any risk with my soul. Y’u going to join Church when you go to Panama?”
“No,” said Jones, “I don’t have nothing to do with churches; the fact is, I don’t understand them at all.”
A chorus of approval greeted these words. “Something should be done to reform the churches,” said the Professor. Then he added impressively, “Something is going wrong somewhere.”
“If the churches were better,” said Jones, “there would be less sin in the world. That’s what I always say.”
“That is so,” said Septimus; “the churches are to blame.” Then calling to the younger barmaid, he said, “Missis, you hear about this comet?”
“I am prepare,” the girl answered, “whenever the call shall come.”
“That’s a fine girl,” said Jones approvingly. “If I wasn’t taking one with me to Panama, I would take her.”
He spoke loudly enough for the barmaid to hear him, and she (though prepared for instant death) imagining that he was making fun at her, promptly faced him with an indignant rejoinder.
“See here, Mister Jones! you really wouldn’t be rude to me to-night. It’s not because y’u see me servin’ behind a bar that you must think y’u can laugh at me! I am a lady, though I am poor; an’ if me dead father should know I was workin’ here, him would dead again from grief!”
“I wasn’t making any fun!” protested Jones. “I was only admiring you. An’ I meant what I said!”