“I can’t help it,” I says—and couldn’t say no more.
Mis’ Postmaster Sykes was there, and she piped up:
“But it’s so dignified, Calliope,” she says. “No soliciting, no pledging people to be present, no money-begging for expenses. No anything except giving people to understand that not attending ain’t real respectable.”
It was them words that give me the strength to get up and go home without breaking down. And all the way up Daphne Street I went saying it over: “No anything except giving people to understand not attending ain’t real respectable. No, not anything only just that.”
Near my own gate I come on young Elbert Kinsman, minister of the White Frame church, going along alone.
“Oh, Mr. Kinsman,” I burst out unbeknownst, “can you imagine Jesus of Nazareth belonging to a denomination?”
All of a sudden, that young minister reached out and took my hand.
“He loved men,” he said only, “and he was very patient with them.”
And then I went into my dark house, with some other words ringing in my ears: “Lighten mine eyes—lighten mine eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of the dead.”