Grandma and Grandpa Keeler, by the way, were good Methodists, but
Madeline was not a "professor."
"Seeking religion, eh?" inquired Grandpa Keeler. "She'd better let Dave
Rollin alone, then," he added.
"Let us hope that we shall all on us be brought to a better state of
mind," concluded Grandma Keeler, with solemn pertinency.
Before the meal was finished and the table cleared away, the latch of the
Ark had been often lifted.
On all occasions, afterwards, there was a marked and cheerful variety in
the nature of the droppers-in at the Ark--the children and all the young
men and maidens making their appearance with a promiscuousness which
precluded the possibility of design--but to-night the Wallencamp mind had
evidently aimed at some great system of conventionality, and had been
eminently successful in evolving a plan.
The callers were young men exclusively--the native youth of Wallencamp.
Their blowzy, well-favored faces, which ever afterward appeared to beam
with good nature, to-night expressed a sense of some grave affliction
heroically to be endured.
Their best clothes, it was obvious, had been purchased by them
"ready-made," and had been designed, originally, for the sons of a less
stalwart community.
Pages:
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69