The Morning Glory Club Part 7

"She's all right, too," said Sam, enthusiastically.

"You bet," replied Alick. "Did you hear about the woman's club?"

"Some."

"What they goin' to do?"

"Well," Sam drawled, "near's I can make out, they're goin' to improve themselves, where there's room for improvement, and scatter blessin's 'round to other folks while they're doin' it. I heard that yesterday they voted ten dollars for a pink tea, and one dollar seventy-five for foreign missions, and--" Sam was interrupted by Mrs. Stout, who had approached un.o.bserved by either of the gossipers.

"You're lyin', Sam Billin's," she called, sharply. It was evident that she had overheard Sam's remarks.

"h.e.l.lo, Mis' Stout," called Sam, unabashed, as he peeked over the edge of the roof. "I hear you're a bright and shinin' light in _our_ new club."

"Don't you let me hear of you tellin' any more such whoppers, Sam Billin's. Lies breed fast enough in this town without any extra help from you," replied Mrs. Stout, as she looked up at his grinning face, and then turning to Alick, continued, "Ain't you got anything else to do, Alick Purbeck, 'cept sit behind a big cigar and listen to that shiftless critter up there? Go 'long now, or I'll talk your case over with Peter."

Alick drove away, and Sam went to work. Mrs. Stout started on her way, but had gone only a few steps when she met Mrs. Darling returning from Mrs. Thornton's.

"Good morning, Mrs. Stout," she said, "I'm so glad to see you, aren't you out early?"

"Good land! no; I'm goin' over to see your friend Mis' Thornton about her baby. Everybody's s'posed to be foolish over their first baby, but I guess from what I heard yesterday that she's overdoin' it. She's feedin' him on samples--turns up her nose at cow's milk--and I just made up my mind that she needed a talkin' to whether she wanted it or not."

"No doubt you are right, Mrs. Stout, but--"

"Right, I know I am--such nonsense. Of course you folks that ain't had no children, and don't want any, can't be expected to--" Mrs. Stout stopped suddenly and looked up. Sam was looking and listening with the earnest attention of an incurable gossip.

"Eavesdroppin', are you?" said Mrs. Stout, contemptuously, and then turning to Mrs. Darling added, "Don't you believe one word that scallywag up there tells you. He gets his news from wash-women and servant girls."

"Well," drawled Sam, "I've noticed that what you hear at back doors is most always nearer the truth than what you hear at the front, though it ain't quite so flatterin'."

Chapter IV

The "Glories" Meet Again

IT was Wednesday, and the morning was as bright and beautiful as the flower for which the new club had been named.

Across the road from Mr. Flint's church stood the dingy white parsonage, its windows glistening in the morning sunlight. It was there, and on this particular morning, that the second meeting of the "Glories" was to be held.

Mrs. Flint, with the apprehensiveness of a neat housekeeper, was trotting from one room to another, replacing a chair here, raising or lowering a curtain a fraction of an inch there, and now and then wiping away an imaginary spot of dust.

Will Flint was looking out one of the sitting-room windows, and rocking nervously with one leg thrown over the arm of his chair. He wanted to smoke and read, but smoking was not to be thought of in the parsonage.

"What's going to happen, mother?" he asked, as she came into the sitting-room in search of disorder and dust.

"Our club is to meet here this morning," Mrs. Flint replied, proudly.

"Guess I'll go for a walk," said Will, as he got up, stretched his arms, and yawned.

"I had hoped," sighed Mrs. Flint, regretfully, "that you would stay at home and meet the ladies."

"No, thank you, mother, I guess I'll be safer out-of-doors," he replied, with a laugh.

"Will," said Mrs. Flint, reprovingly.

"I beg your pardon, mother dear, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but--a houseful of women, it's impossible!"

Mrs. Flint suppressed another sigh. Since her son's return from college she could not accustom herself to his ways. She wanted to say, "Willie, be sure and return in time for dinner," but she realized that the boy had become a man, and remained silent.

"I'll be home in time for supper," said Will, as he took his hat and started for the door, then added, "Good luck, mother," and went out.

Mrs. Flint watched from the window, as he walked down the path and up the road, until he disappeared. She was about to turn away from the window when Mrs. Stout waddled into view, stopped in front of the parsonage, hailed Alick Purbeck, who was driving by, and the following conversation, which Mrs. Flint and all of her neighbours could hear, took place.

"How's your folks, Alick?" asked Mrs. Stout.

"Children ain't well."

"Too bad, what doctor've you got?"

"Jones."

"He don't know nothin'."

"He did my wife a lot of good."

"He don't understand children."

"Well, I've had him twice, and--"

"Take my advice and get another."

"I'll see."

"Has Sam Billin's been tellin' you any more trash about the woman's club?"

"Not a word. Get-ap."

The grocer's wagon rattled off down the street, and Mrs. Stout went to the door and rang the bell. Mrs. Flint was disgusted, but succeeded in concealing her feelings, and greeted Mrs. Stout smilingly.

"You are punctual, Mrs. Stout," she said.

"Yes," puffed Mrs. Stout, "I always make it a point to be on time; it pays and don't cost anything."

"Yes, come right in, punctuality is indeed a virtue, but one that is unappreciated by those who do not possess it."

"I declare," said Mrs. Stout, as she plumped into a chair, "I do believe I'm gettin' wheezy in my old age, just that little walk from my house has tuckered me out. How's the club gettin' along?"