"Yez needn't be so stuck up," she said, loudly and derisively.
"Yez was all of yez rocked in a flour barrel. And there's old
Henry Frewen, still above ground. I called my parrot after him
because their noses were exactly alike. Look at Caroline Marr,
will yez? That's a woman who'd like pretty well to get married,
And there's Alexander Marr. He's a real Christian, anyhow, and
so's his dog. I can always size up what a man's religion amounts
to by the kind of dog he keeps. Alexander Marr is a good man."
It was a relief to hear Peg speak well of somebody; but that was
the only exception she made.
"Look at Dave Fraser strutting in," she went on. "That man has
thanked God so often that he isn't like other people that it's
come to be true. He isn't! And there's Susan Frewen. She's
jealous of everybody. She's even jealous of Old Man Rogers
because he's buried in the best spot in the graveyard. Seth
Erskine has the same look he was born with. They say the Lord
made everybody but I believe the devil made all the Erskines."
"She's getting worse all the time. What WILL she say next?"
whispered poor Felicity.
But her martyrdom was over at last. The minister appeared in the
pulpit and Peg subsided into silence. She folded her bare, floury
arms over her breast and fastened her black eyes on the young
preacher.
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