The
following Sunday the little church held the largest
attendance in its history. Seemingly, every man
and woman in town had come to hear what more
I would say about the trouble, but I ignored the
whole matter. I preached the sermon I had pre-
pared, the subject of which was as remote from
church quarrels as our atmosphere was remote from
peace, and my congregation dispersed with expres-
sions of such artless disappointment that it was all
I could do to preserve a dignified gravity.
That night, however, the war was brought into
my camp. At the evening meeting the leader of one
of the factions rose to his feet with the obvious pur-
pose of starting trouble. He was a retired sea-cap-
tain, of the ruthless type that knocks a man down
with a belaying-pin, and he made his attack on me
in a characteristically ``straight from the shoulder''
fashion. He began with the proposition that my
morning sermon had been ``entirely contrary to the
Scriptures,'' and for ten minutes he quoted and mis-
quoted me, hammering in his points. I let him go
on without interruption. Then he added:
``And this gal comes to this church and under-
takes to tell us how we shall pray. That's a high-
handed measure, and I, for one, ain't goin' to stand
it. I want to say right here that I shall pray as I
like, when I like, and where I like. I have prayed
in this heavenly way for fifty years before that gal
was born, and she can't dictate to me now!''
By this time the whole congregation was aroused,
and cries of ``Sit down!'' ``Sit down!'' came from
every side of the church.
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