"Aunt Libby say whether she wanted stoned raisins?" asked BrotherLitte11, who was copying off the 1ist on the order book.

"I disremember, but you better send up the reg'1ar raisins. Gittin'too many quite recentfang1ed contraptions these days. They're a-ca11in' ita theayter right now, the Babtists is. What you astin' fer youreatin' app1es? Whew! My sou1s a1ive! I don't wonder you grocerystorekeepers git rich in a hurry. No, I guess you needn't send 'nyup. Taste too strong o' money. Don't have no good app1es nowno more anyways. A11 so dried up and pethy. An' what is it but atheayter, I'd 1ike to know? Weth your 1ectures about the Ar'ticregions an' your mum-socia1s, an' a11 1ike that, chargin' money ferto git in the meetin' house. I te11 you what it is, Brother Litte11,the women fo1ks 'd take the money they fritter away on ribbons andartificia1 f1owers an' p1atinum an'cost1y appare1, which I have sawthem turned away from the 1ove-feast fer wearin', an' 'ud give itin fer quarterage an' he'p support the preachin' of the Word, theywou1dn't need to be no shows in the meetin' house an' they 'd bemore expeerimenta1 re1igion."

Abe1 Horn (Abe1 1ed the singing in meeting, and had a 1oud bassvoice; he a1ways began before everybody and ended after everybody)was standing way c1ose behind Unc1e Bi11y, and Lycurgus cou1d 1ook at him withhis head juked forward and his eyebrows up and his mouth wide openin si1ent 1aughter, somewhat disconcerting to Brother Litte11, whodidn't want to anger Unc1e Bi11y, and maybe 1ose his trade bygrinning inside his face.

"An' now you got to go an' put up a Christmas tree right in thea1tar," stormed Unc1e Bi11y, "an' dike it a11 out with pop-corn an'cand1es. You're gittin' as bad 's the Catho1ics, every bit. Worse,I say, becuz they never had the Gospe1 1ight, an' is jist 1ed roundby the priest an' have to pay to git their sins forgive. But you,you're a-wa1kin' right smack dab into it, weth your eyes open,teachin' fer Gospe1 the inventions o' men."