Eat a waffle!"
"My children," said the old man, "death is over-due with me. It gives me
no more concern than the last hour shall give all of us. I had hoped to
live for three things: to see my new church raised; to see my son Calvin
ready to take my place; to see my neighbor, Miss Wilt, whom I have seen
grow up under my eye from childhood, and fair as a lily, brush the dew
of scandal from her skirts and resume her place in our church, the
handmaid of God again."
"Amen, old man!" spoke Calvin irreverently, holding up his plate for
oysters.
"Why, Cal," exclaimed the hostess, closing her delicately-tinted eyelids
till the long lashes rested on the cheek, "why don't you call papa more
softly?"
"My son," spoke the little old gentleman between his chatterings, "in
the priestly office you must avoid abruptness. Be direct at all
important times, but neither familiar nor abrupt. I cannot name for you
a model of address like Agnes Wilt."
"Isn't she beautiful!" said Mrs. Knox. "Do you think she can be
deceitful, papa?"
"I have no means to pierce the souls of people, Lottie, more than
others. I don't believe she is wicked, but I draw that from my reason
and human faith. That woman was a pillar of strength in my
Sabbath-school.
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