This interesting situation was up for discussion at the Wednesday
afternoon meeting of the Sisters' Sewing Society.
"For my part," Sister Susan Spicer, wife of the Methodist minister,
remarked as she took another tuck in a fourteen-year-old girl's skirt
for a ten-year-old--"for my part, I can't see why Deacon Hawkins and
Kate Stimson don't see the error of their ways and depart from them."
"I rather guess _she_ has," smiled Sister Poteet, the grocer's better
half, who had taken an afternoon off from the store in order to be
present.
"Or is willing to," added Sister Maria Cartridge, a spinster still
possessing faith, hope, and charity, notwithstanding she had been on
the waiting list a long time.
"Really, now," exclaimed little Sister Green, the doctor's wife, "do
you think it is the deacon who needs urging?"
"It looks that way to me," Sister Poteet did not hesitate to affirm.
"Well, I heard Sister Clark say that she had heard him call her
'Kitty' one night when they were eating ice-cream at the Mite
Society," Sister Candish, the druggist's wife, added to the fund of
reliable information on hand.
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