"
"Against Mr. Jelnik? But, good heavens, why? Why?" I was beginning
to get angry. "Let me see: I am to make myself odious to Mr. Jelnik,
and I am to refuse to allow a physician to run his car through a
barren strip of weeds and sand, because they are her relatives and
she hated her relatives. I am to vex the souls of harmless
Christians with bill-posters of the world, the flesh, and the devil,
and I'm to pay taxes on a lot that's been turned into a cemetery for
a hound dog. I'm to fight St. Polycarp's Church, for a couple of
chromos I should probably loathe.--I don't like pictures of cardinal
virtues, anyhow. It altogether depends on who possesses them as to
whether I can stand for the cardinal virtues themselves."
"Faith looking up, and Charity looking down, and Hope hanging to an
anchor, _something_ like Britannia-Rules-the-Waves. Make the church
keep them, please, Sophy!" begged Alicia.
Judge Gatchell made an odd noise in his throat.
"One of my little granddaughters, taken to Saint Polycarp's by her
mother, asked, 'Mamma, who is that big woman up there with the
pick-axe?' And they told her," said the Judge, scathingly, "they
told her it was _Hope_!
"When the vestry came to me about the case, I reminded them that
Aholah and Aholibah were damned for doting upon paintings on the
wall, painted in vermilion, which in plain English is Scarlett!" A
covenanting gleam shot into his frosty eyes, and the old fighting
Scotch blood showed for a second in his lank cheek.
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