"Is it too warm in here?" Margaret inquired, getting up and going toward the door. They told her that it was "very pleasant," and she looked around at them as if in her opinion it was getting fairly warm but not quite warm enough.
"Mr. Reverend," said Mrs. Mayfield, "I have never known a man like you. And did you ever have a fight, being a Starbuck?"
"I have seen men fall down."
"But you never killed anybody, did you—still being a Starbuck?"
"Kill anybody!" Tom cried. "Why, he's a D. D. not an M. D."
"Oh, hush, you stock joker. But Mr. Reverend, don't you think it is awfully wrong to fight?"
And gazing into her eyes he said: "At times, ma'm, it is just as essential as prayer. Now, Peter drew his sword and cut off a man's ear, and Peter stood right up next to Christ."
"But the Savior told him to put up his sword."
"Very true, ma'm, but not until after the feller had lost his ear."
"Law, me!" exclaimed Margaret, standing at the door, "but you folks air cuttin' up scollops."