Of course the sexton came in for the purpose of removing the animal, but it dodged into a vacant pew upon the other side of the aisle and defied him, barking vociferously all the time.  Then the sexton became warm and indignant, and he flung a cane at the dog, whereupon the dog flew out and bit his leg.  The excitement in the church by this time, of course, was simply dreadful.  Not only was the story of the Deluge interrupted, but the unregenerate Sunday-school scholars in the gallery actually hissed the dog at the sexton, and seemed to enjoy the contest exceedingly.

Then Elder McGinn came after the dog with his cane, and as he pursued the animal it dashed toward the pulpit and ran up the steps in such a fierce manner that the doctor quickly mounted a chair and remarked, with anger flashing through his spectacles, that if this disgraceful scene did not soon come to an end he should dismiss the congregation.  Then the elder crept softly up the stairs, and after a short struggle he succeeded in grasping the dog by one of its hind legs.  Then he walked down the aisle with it, the dog meantime yelling with supernatural energy and the Sunday-school boys making facetious remarks.

Mrs. Whistler turned around, with other members of the congregation, to watch the retreating elder, and as she did so she permitted her unconscious umbrella to droop so that the end of one of the ribs caught Mrs. Moody’s bonnet.  A moment later, when she was straightening up the umbrella, the bonnet was wrenched off, and hung dangling from the umbrella.  Mrs. Moody had become exceedingly warm, at any rate, over the onslaught made upon her dog, but when Mrs. Whistler removed her bonnet, she fairly boiled over; and turning around, white with rage, she screamed,

“What’d you grab that bonnet for, you wretch!  Haven’t you made enough fuss in this church to-day, skeering a poor innocent dog, without snatching off such bonnets as the like of you can’t afford to wear, no matter how mean you live at home, you red-headed lunatic, you!  You let my bonnet alone, or I’ll hit you with this parasol, if it is in meeting, now mind me!”

Then Mrs. Whistler, for the first time, seemed to realize that her umbrella made her conspicuous; so she furled it and concluded to escape from an embarrassing position by going home.  As she stepped into the aisle her enemy gave her a parting salute: 

“Sneaking off before the collection, too!  You’d better spend less for breastpins and give more to the poor heathen if you don’t want to ketch it hereafter!”

Then she began to fan herself furiously, and as Mrs. Whistler emerged from the front door and things became calmer the doctor resumed the story of the Flood.  But Mrs. Whistler has given up her pew and gone over to the Presbyterians, and there are rumors that Mrs. Moody is going to secede also because Elder McGinn insists that she shall leave her dog at home.

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