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From under my Hat
Sabbath to herself. She should carry this highfalutin miss around on her day of rest. Pretending to be frightened at a falling leaf, she bounced me off and ran away. Fifty yards ahead she slowed down, turned and laughed in my face, then waited while I picked myself up, dusted off my duds, and caught up with her, limping a bit.
I loved that horse. We understood each other, which is more than I can say for most of the humans in the family, except Mother and Uncle John.
One day my father announced that Fanny was too old and he was going to sell her to the glue factory. I screamed the house down. Fanny, having worked patiently all her life, deserved a quiet pasture in her old age and a nice burying when the time came. As usual, I lost out. To this day I can't look a pot of glue in the face.
Contrary to the customary complaint of children, Sundays were always exciting for me. I devoured every scrap of scandal and fashion news in the Sunday supplement, after going to church and devoting much time to speculating about our minister.
For a preacher he had an awfully wild family, which he deserted after his sermon in order to make a ridiculous fuss over Mother, angling to be invited to dinner for our big rib roast. He was no fool. He knew our table had the best meat in town.
I was critical of the clothes worn by his daughter. She'd be gone for long, unexplained intervals, then reappear wearing new outfits more dashing and expensive-looking than the last batch. Everybody knew the salary her father got and wondered how she managed so well. I envied her those clothes.
Then a wonderful thing happened. We got a visiting minister who was young, gay, and unmarried. After three weeks of listening to his sermons, I was converted, thinking he'd stay around and baptize me. Without any warning he went away, leaving the baptism to our regular minister. For a wild moment I thought about snatching my soul back from the Lord's keeping; but it was too late. I'd given it!
My sister Dora was the oldest of us children; one followed who died soon after birth; then came my brother Sherman, one of the handsomest men I ever saw and my father's favorite; Cammon— poor
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