“It might as well be five thousand,” said the minister, shaking his head. “No, my good friend, I must toil on as well as I can, and leave European trips to more favored men.”
It was noised about through the parish that the minister was sick, and the doctor recommended a European trip.
“It's ridikilus,” was Deacon Gridley's comment. “I work harder than the minister, and I never had to go to Europe. It's just because it's fashionable.”
“Mr. Thornton is looking pale and haggard,” said Mrs. Gridley.
“What if he is? He ought to work outdoors like me. Then he'd know what work was. Ac-cordin' to my notion, ministers have a pooty easy time.”
Mr. Tudor was of the same opinion.
“It's all nonsense, deacon,” he said. “Father wanted me to be a minister, and I'd have had a good deal easier time if I had followed his advice.”
“You wouldn't have had so much money, Mr. Tudor,” said Miss Lucretia Spring, who heard this remark.
“Mebbe not; but what I've got I've worked for.”
“For my part, although I am not near as rich as you are, I'd give twenty dollars toward sending the minister abroad,” said kindly Miss Spring.