"Who told you that?" gravely asked the stranger preacher, all the smile gone from his kindly eyes.
"That he's homely? No one. I can see it for myself."
"I mean who told you that the people intend to kick?"
"Oh! Grandpa was talking to Grandma last evening. The paper said Dr. Shumway was to take the place of Dr. Glaves. It's a pity they can't divide up, ain't it? Dr. Glaves would look less like an elephant if he didn't have so much meat on him and Dr. Shumway needs a lot more'n he's got."
"Who is your grandfather?" interrupted the man beside her, ignoring the candid criticisms of his entertainer.
"Dr. Campbell, President of the State University," she answered proudly.
"Oh!" He was silent a moment; then as if musing aloud, he murmured, "So they mean to kick, do they?"
"Well, wouldn't you? This is the third time South Avenue Church has asked for one partic'lar man and got a different fellow. It's time they kicked, seems to me. I guess the bishop likes to lord it over the churches and have his own way in things."
"Perhaps he thinks he knows best what kind of a man is needed in his different charges."
"P'r'aps he does, but he made an awful bungle when he sent Dr. Glaves down here,—that's sure."