Grandpa Keeler, too, though not subjected to the renovating and
rejuvenating processes of the Sabbath, but just touched up a little here
and there, enough to give him a slight "odor of sanctity," and a saving
sense of personal discomfort, was always led to the meeting, and kept
close by Grandma Keeler's side on the most prominent bench.
When there was one of those frightful pauses which sometimes occurred
even in the cheerful concourse of the Wallencampers, casting a depressing
influence over all hearts, Grandma Keeler by a series of covert pokes and
nudges, would signify to Grandpa that now was the appointed moment for
him to arise and let his light shine.
And Grandpa Keeler was not a timid man, but since the event of his
clarification, he had shown a stronger dislike than ever to being
pestered, and was abnormally quick to detect and resist any advances of
that kind. So his movements on these occasions were marked by an angry
deliberation, though the old sea-captain never failed in the end, to
arise and "hand in his testimony."
His remarks were (originally) clear cut and terse.
"There's no need o' my gittin' up. You all know how I stand" (an
admonitory nudge from Grandma)--"What's the matter now, ma?" I could hear
the old man swear, mentally, but he went on with the amendment--"or try
to.
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