The old lady put on her newest bombazine dress—all this happened ten years ago, ladies—and a hat to match.
Never before had these articles of dress been seen by the irreligious light of a weekday; the day seemed fully as holy as an ordinary Sabbath.
They attracted considerable attention, in their good clothes and solemn faces, and finally, as they stood on the parson's doorstep, two of the captain's own deckhands saw him, and straightway drank themselves into a state of beastly intoxication in trying to decide what the captain could want of a preacher.
The minister entered, cordially greeted Mrs. Simmons, and expressed his pleasure at forming the captain's acquaintance.
"Parson," said the captain, in trembling accents—"don't go away, Mrs. Simmons—parson, my good friend here tells me you know all about my case; now the question is, how soon can you do the business?"
The reverend gentleman shivered a little at hearing the word "business" applied to holy things, but replied, in excellent temper:
"The next opportunity will occur on the first Sabbath of the coming month, and I shall be truly delighted to gather into our fold one whose many worthy qualities have been made known to us by our dearly beloved sister Simmons. And let me further remind you that there is joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, and that therefore—"
"Just so, parson," interrupted the captain, wincing a little, and looking exceedingly puzzled—"just so; but ain't thar no day but Sunday for a man to be married—"
"Married!" ejaculated the minister, looking inquiringly at Mrs. Simmons.
"Married!" screamed the old lady, staring wildly at the captain—"married! Oh, what shall I do? I thought you'd experienced a change! And I've told everybody about it!"