The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913, 1895-07-21

tiresome by spells. Don't you hate
m'notony, Martha?''
Martha Cox was looking ahead, between
old Sorrel's ears, at the level gray road
She was faded little woman, with pale
brown eyes and ashy brown hair. She had
a thin-lipped, sensitive mouth and pale
cheeks. The vague wrinkles on her face
were not the kind that give any clew to the
experiences of the soul behind them.
81 don't knows ever had anything else
to contrast it with" she said little duly
"Your carpets goin' to be hit or miss, but
gems S if my life'd been hit an miss all
TIL way through"
Mrs. Muncie's dIsapproval was unmis-
taxable. 1T amt no ways right for you
to talk that way, Martha" she said severe
~. sit savors of unfaith. They amt no
kind of doubt but what the Lords affiict-
in hands been laid heavy on you all
your life. but his ways is not as ourn, an
they can't be no doubt every one of them
troubles has been sent in mercy. No
tellin' what sins of backsliding they may
have saved you from, Martha Cox. The
Lord deals wisely with his people,"
81 amt SO sure he sends 'em," Martha
said half defantly, 81 amt got so little
faith in God, Jane Muncie, as to b'lieve he
ever means misfortune to come to folks. "
She had said it! For the first time in
her life she had given utterance to the
thought that through the whole monoton-
Gus course of her dull drab existence with
its dull drab troubles, had been her COM
fort and her stay.
AS for Mrs. Muncie, she was almost too
scandalized for utterance. By this time
they had reached her own house and she
had alighted. She paused, with one
brown-gloved hand on the latch of her
neat, white gate.
II am afraid, Martha" she said, "that
your heart is not right in the sight of the
Lord. Watch and pray, for you are in
danger of being led away by spiritual
pride" Martha was too frightened at her
own temerity to make any reply. She
drove on in silence.
She was busy with hoe and shovel and
little cart the next day. collecting dust for
the chicken-yard from the highway before
her gate, when the Rev. Eli Bray and his
two deacons appeared, driving Deacon
Muncie's big gray colt before comforta-
BILE carryall. Martha 'felt it in her bones, -
as she told herself that they were coming
to see her and she retreated hastily into
the house to make herself presentable.
1t was a solemn trio that greeted her
when she answered Deacon Muncie'
knock.
The Rev. Eli was the first to speak. He
was tall, spare man, with reddish chin
whiskers and habit of putting out his lips
and cheeks whenever he delivered himself
of remark, as though the air were in haste
to FIJI the vacuum which nature abhors.
Deacon Graves was short and wiry, with
kindly blue eyes and humorous express
sion about the mouth. While Deacon Mum
Gle was frankly portly and prosperous,
withal bearing his prosperity meekly, as
from the Lord "Sister Muncie was telling
me, Miss Cox" said Elder Bray, kindly,
certain remarks of yours that lead me to
fear you are letting worldly doubts bedim
your light
Martha, taken by surprise, made no re-
ply. Deacon Muncie frowned slightly and
Deacon Graves looked very uncomfortable.
"Oh. don't think it's ez bad ez all that,
Brother Bray he said.
Martha looked at the little man CRATE
fully, but before she could reply Deacon
Muncie said, seaJing himself in one of the
rush-bottomed chairs, miss Muncie says,
Maythy, as how you protested yesterday