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Best American Humorous Short Stories

"Oh," Sister Candish hastened to explain, "Sister Clark didn't say she had heard him say it
twice.'"
"Well, I don't think she heard him say it once," Sister Spicer asserted with confidence.
"I don't know about that," Sister Poteet argued. "From all I can see and hear I think Kate
Stimson wouldn't object to 'most anything the deacon would say to her, knowing as she
does that he ain't going to say anything he shouldn't say."
"And isn't saying what he should," added Sister Green, with a sly snicker, which went
around the room softly.
"But as I was saying--" Sister Spicer began, when Sister Poteet, whose rocker, near the
window, commanded a view of the front gate, interrupted with a warning, "'Sh-'sh."
"Why shouldn't I say what I wanted to when--" Sister Spicer began.
"There she comes now," explained Sister Poteet, "and as I live the deacon drove her here
in his sleigh, and he's waiting while she comes in. I wonder what next," and Sister Poteet,
in conjunction with the entire society, gasped and held their eager breaths, awaiting the
entrance of the subject of conversation.
Sister Spicer went to the front door to let her in, and she was greeted with the greatest
cordiality by everybody.
"We were just talking about you and wondering why you were so late coming," cried
Sister Poteet. "Now take off your things and make up for lost time. There's a pair of pants
over there to be cut down to fit that poor little Snithers boy."
The excitement and curiosity of the society were almost more than could be borne, but
never a sister let on that she knew the deacon was at the gate waiting. Indeed, as far as the
widow could discover, there was not the slightest indication that anybody had ever heard
there was such a person as the deacon in existence.
"Oh," she chirruped, in the liveliest of humors, "you will have to excuse me for today.
Deacon Hawkins overtook me on the way here, and here said I had simply got to go
sleigh-riding with him. He's waiting out at the gate now."
"Is that so?" exclaimed the society unanimously, and rushed to the window to see if it
were really true.
"Well, did you ever?" commented Sister Poteet, generally.
"Hardly ever," laughed the widow, good-naturedly, "and I don't want to lose the chance.
You know Deacon Hawkins isn't asking somebody every day to go sleighing with him. I
told him I'd go if he would bring me around here to let you know what had become of
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