“Model for Pupils to Make.  Tomb with Rolling Door.—­Use a square covered box turned upside down.  Pull the cover forward a little to form a groove at the bottom.  Cut a square door, also cut a circle of cardboard to more than cover the door.  Cover the circular door and the tomb thickly with stiff mixture of sand, flour and water and let it dry.  It was the heavy circular stone over the door the women found ‘rolled away’ on Easter morning.  This is the story we are to ‘Go-tell.’”

In their advertisements the Sunday School journals were thoroughly efficient.  Babbitt was interested in a preparation which “takes the place of exercise for sedentary men by building up depleted nerve tissue, nourishing the brain and the digestive system.”  He was edified to learn that the selling of Bibles was a hustling and strictly competitive industry, and as an expert on hygiene he was pleased by the Sanitary Communion Outfit Company’s announcement of “an improved and satisfactory outfit throughout, including highly polished beautiful mahogany tray.  This tray eliminates all noise, is lighter and more easily handled than others and is more in keeping with the furniture of the church than a tray of any other material.”

IV

He dropped the pile of Sunday School journals.

He pondered, “Now, there’s a real he-world.  Corking!

“Ashamed I haven’t sat in more.  Fellow that’s an influence in the community—­shame if he doesn’t take part in a real virile hustling religion.  Sort of Christianity Incorporated, you might say.

“But with all reverence.

“Some folks might claim these Sunday School fans are undignified and unspiritual and so on.  Sure!  Always some skunk to spring things like that!  Knocking and sneering and tearing-down—­so much easier than building up.  But me, I certainly hand it to these magazines.  They’ve brought ole George F. Babbitt into camp, and that’s the answer to the critics!

“The more manly and practical a fellow is, the more he ought to lead the enterprising Christian life.  Me for it!  Cut out this carelessness and boozing and—­Rone!  Where the devil you been?  This is a fine time o’ night to be coming in!”

CHAPTER XVII

I

There are but three or four old houses in Floral Heights, and in Floral Heights an old house is one which was built before 1880.  The largest of these is the residence of William Washington Eathorne, president of the First State Bank.

The Eathorne Mansion preserves the memory of the “nice parts” of Zenith as they appeared from 1860 to 1900.  It is a red brick immensity with gray sandstone lintels and a roof of slate in courses of red, green, and dyspeptic yellow.  There are two anemic towers, one roofed with copper, the other crowned with castiron ferns.  The porch is like an open tomb; it is supported by squat granite pillars above which hang frozen cascades of brick.  At one side of the house is a huge stained-glass window in the shape of a keyhole.