I don't see how you can 'spect me to behave well when you won't
send me to Sunday school.
"Would you like to go?" asked Salome, almost in a whisper.
"I'd like it bully," said Lionel Hezekiah frankly and succinctly.
"Oh, don't use such dreadful words," sighed Salome helplessly.
"I'll see what can be done. Perhaps you can go.
I'll ask your Aunt Judith."
"Oh, Aunt Judith won't let me go," said Lionel Hezekiah despondingly.
"Aunt Judith doesn't believe there is any God or any bad place.
Teddy Markham says she doesn't. He says she's an awful wicked
woman 'cause she never goes to church. So you must be wicked too,
Aunt Salome, 'cause you never go. Why don't you?"
"Your--your Aunt Judith won't let me go," faltered Salome,
more perplexed than she had ever been before in her life.
"Well, it doesn't seem to me that you have much fun on Sundays,"
remarked Lionel Hezekiah ponderingly. "I'd have more if I was you.
But I s'pose you can't 'cause you're ladies. I'm glad I'm a man.
Look at Abel Blair, what splendid times he has on Sundays. He never goes
to church, but he goes fishing, and has cock-fights, and gets drunk.
When I grow up, I'm going to do that on Sundays too, since I won't
be going to church.
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