Quite a congregation of "American mixed," but the buzzing gave an air of congeniality which lent the impression of true democracy so typified in a Jersey village.
One young girl with roguish blue eyes sauntered up to a thin, neatly dressed elderly man, who was watching the group with a friendly smile.
"Have yer called on the new people yet, Mr. Allworth? There's a dandy young lady in the bunch. Don't let Pastor Soffy get ahead of you. We want her in our Church."
Her tone was loud enough to attract attention, and the majority suspended their buzzing.
The Methodist minister answered in a clerical tone,
"My dear Miss Bessie, I would never strive for members for our Church. Call I certainly shall, but not with the intention of robbing Mr. Soffy."
"Oh, fudge!" exclaimed Bessie, laughing, "everyone knows you'll both scramble for them!"
At this there was a general laugh, at which Mr. Allworth colored furiously.
It was plain to be seen Bessie was a privileged character.
"Stop your joshing, Bessie!" exclaimed the wife of the post-master, proprietor, and mayor. "Here's a letter for the new people. You take it up the road to them, and that'll get you acquainted."