This is my final gasp, my last explosion,
my dying outburst. Rah, rah, rah, David. Three cheers and a tiger.
Amen! Hallelujah! Hurrah! Down with the traitor, up with the stars!
Now it's all over. I am a Presbyterian."
David's burst of laughter was echoed on every side of the room and the
lights were switched on, and with a sickening weakness Carol faced the
young people of her husband's church.
"More Presbyterians, dear, a whole houseful of them. They wanted to
surprise you, but you have turned the tables on them. This is my wife,
Mrs. Duke."
Slowly Carol rallied. She smiled the irresistible smile.
"I am so glad to meet you," she said, softly, "I know we are going to
like each other. Aren't you glad you got here in time to see me become
Presbyterian? David, why didn't you warn me that surprise parties were
still stylish? I thought they had gone out."
Carol watched very, very closely all that evening, and she could not
see one particle of difference between these mansers and the young
folks in the Methodist Church in Mount Mark, Iowa. They told funny
stories, and laughed immoderately at them. The young men gave the
latest demonstrations of vaudeville trickery, and the girls applauded
as warmly as if they had not seen the same bits performed in the
original.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25