“But Mr. Thorpe, now, he doesn’t seem to have no sense of the duties of his position.  Week before last, I heard of his walkin’ along the river with Andy Rogers—­arm in arm, if you’ll believe me, with the worst drunkard and chicken thief in town.  The very idea of a minister associatin’ with sinners!  Mr. Brewster would never have done that.  Why, Andy was one of them that run out of the church the day the minister give us that movin’ sermon on hell, and he ain’t never dared to show his face in a place of worship since.

“As I said, I don’t think Mr. Thorpe ’ll be with us long, for the vestry and the congregation is getting dissatisfied.  There ain’t been any open talk, except in the Ladies’ Aid Society, but public opinion is settin’ pretty strongly in that direction.”  Miss Hitty dropped her final g’s when she got thoroughly interested in her subject and at times became deeply involved in grammatical complications.

“Us older ones, that’s strong in the faith, ain’t likely to be injured by it, I suppose, but there’s always the young ones to be considered, and it’s highly important for Araminta to have the right kind of influence.  Of course Mr. Thorpe don’t talk on religious subjects at home, and I ain’t let Araminta go to church the last two Sundays.  Meanwhile, I’ve talked hell to her stronger ’n common.

“But, upon my soul, I don’t know what Rushton is comin’ to.  A month or so ago, there was an outlandish, heathen character come here that beats anything I’ve ever heard tell of.  His name is Tom Barnaby and he’s set up a store on the edge of town, in the front parlour of Widow Simon’s house.  She’s went and rented it to him, and she says he pays his rent regular.

“He wears leather leggings and a hat with a red feather stuck in it, and he’s gone into competition with Mrs. Allen, who’s kept the dry-goods here for the last twenty years.

“Of course,” she went on, a little wistfully, “I’ve always patronised Mrs. Allen, and I always shall.  They do say Barnaby’s goods is a great deal cheaper, but I’d feel it my duty to buy of a woman, anyhow, even though she has been married.  She’s been a widow for so long, it’s most the same as if she’d never been married at ail.

“Barnaby lives with a dog and does for himself, but he’s hardly ever in his store.  People go there to buy things and find the door propped open with a brick, and a sign says to come in and take what you want.  The price of everything is marked good and plain, and another sign says to put the money in the drawer and make your own change.  The blacksmith was at him for doing business so shiftless, and Barnaby laughed and said that if anybody wanted anything he had bad enough to steal it, whoever it was, he was good and welcome to it.  That just shows how crazy he is.  Most of the time he’s roaming around the country, with his yellow dog at his heels, making outlandish noises on some kind of a flute.  He can’t play a tune, but he keeps trying.  Folks around here call him Piper Tom.