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THE MOTION PICTURE STORY MAGAZINE
up as an ultra-modish dress. There was a rustle in the air like birds in migration; yet the new minister noticed not these signs, or discreetly appeared not to.
Sunday came; the hour of service was rung in, and the pews of the white-and-drab church fairly burnt with a riot of color. Even Nance was there, with the new loss of her mother upon her, pale, dressed in black, and her deep eyes cast down to the worn carpets as the minister set the hymns.
It was scathing enough ; a whip to the backs of Hardscrabble, where they had wanted a pat. And the congregation filed out with the distaste of their new overlord showing in telltale eyes.
The new minister 's words had been as literal as a shower poured upon the village finery, and, by twos and threes, they trooped out, leaving him in dazed discomfort.
In the churchyard only Nance remained. Her flowers were earthly
THE NEW MINISTER JOKES WITH DARIUS
At such a time as this what more discordant text than that of the vivacious city of Sodom and Lot and his turnabout wife? There, in Doctor Thurlow's sedate pulpit, dressed in a smart broadcloth suit, the new minister had the chilling taste to dwell upon the simplicity of Lot and his pleasuring-loving better-half. Extravagance— the extravagance of aping one's wealthier neighbor, the texture of his clothes or the joint on his table, the flower in his wife's hair or the geegaw on her neck.
ones, culled for her mother's grave. And the smarting Thaddeus Strong came out, to find her in the midst of her offering.
He drew back and watched her. There were things written into her humility, her soft yet bold lines, her sheaf of lustrous hair, that were untaught in holy books, and he pMcked up courage to approach this solitary parishioner.
Nance walked home slowly by his side. Her black dress was neat to the point of finicalness, and he wondered