And the Elder got up. I see he was kinder touched up by what the Dr. had said, and he made a long speech about what he thought it was a minister’s place to do. He thought it wasn’t their place to meddle in political matters. I kinder got it into my head from what he said, though he didn’t say it right out, that he thought there was bad men enough to make our laws without good men meddlin’ with ’em. And in windin’ up he said he thought ministers took too active a part in the Temperance move; he heerd of ministers preachin’ sermons about it on Sunday, and though he had no doubt they meant well, still, he must say he thought there was other subjects that was better fitted for good men to hold forth and improve upon. He thought the cross of Christ, warnin’ sinners to keep out of a future hell, was better subjects for ’em, and then he said the Bible was full of beautiful themes for Sunday discourses, such as the possibility of recognizin’ our friends in a future world, and so 4th.
Thomas J. got up and answered him.
Says he, “The subject of recognizin’ our friends in a future world is a beautiful one, and worthy of much thought. But I think it is commendable to try to keep our friends in a condition to recognize us in this world, try to keep a man while he is alive, so he will know his own wife and children, and not turn them out into the storm of a winter midnight, and murder them in his mad frenzy.”
Jest at this minute—when Thomas J. was goin’ on his noblest—some unprincipled creeter and no nothing,—whoever it was—yelled out “Blim!” again, and Cornelius Cork, the President, bein’ on a keen watch for iniquities, jumped out of his seat as if he had been shot out of it with a shot-gun. And he lifted up his head nobly and walked down the aisle of the school-house, in jest that proud triumphant way that Napoleon walked along on top of the Alp, and with that same victorious mean of a conqueror onto him, with his forefinger pinted out firmly and calmly, and almost nobly, he exclaimed in loud, glad tones, and the majesticest I ever heerd in my life:
THE BLIMMER CAUGHT.
“I’ve catched him at it! I’ve catched the blimmer! I heerd him blim! I seen him! I seen him when he was a blimmin’! Ike Gansey, I fine you ten cents and cost for blimmin.”
Here he collared him, dragged him out by the seat of his breeches, and shet the door in his face, and came back pantin’ for breath, but proud and victorious in his mean. Then the Editor of the Auger got up to make the closing speech, when all of a sudden the door opened, and in walked Miss Gowdey. I thought in a minute she looked dretful kinder flustrated and awe-struck. She sot right down by me—Josiah had gone across the school-house to speak to Whitfield on business—and says I:
“What is the matter, sister Gowdey!” (sister in the church;) says I: “you look as white as a white woolen sheet.”
Then she says to me and sister Minkley; says she: