"Some folks say
I'll go there because I don't go to church oftener. But I don't
believe it."
"Why don't you go?" asked Peter, with a temerity that bordered on
rashness.
"Well, I've got so sunburned I'm afraid folks might take me for an
Injun," explained Peg, quite seriously. "Besides, your minister
makes such awful long prayers. Why does he do it?"
"I suppose he finds it easier to talk to God than to people,"
suggested Peter reflectively.
"Well, anyway, I belong to the round church," said Peg
comfortably, "and so the devil can't catch ME at the corners. I
haven't been to Carlisle church for over three years. I thought
I'd a-died laughing the last time I was there. Old Elder Marr
took up the collection that day. He'd on a pair of new boots and
they squeaked all the way up and down the aisles. And every time
the boots squeaked the elder made a face, like he had toothache.
It was awful funny. How's your missionary quilt coming on,
Cecily?"
Was there anything Peg didn't know?
"Very well," said Cecily.
"You can put my name on it, if you want to."
"Oh, thank you. Which section--the five-cent one or the ten-cent
one?" asked Cecily timidly.
"The ten-cent one, of course. The best is none too good for me.
I'll give you the ten cents another time.
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