ith a brown stick on the white stomach of a snow man.... That
poem still didn't seem funny, and for some reason I decided I was
going to try to be what is called a gentleman, and try to act like one
in school, even if I didn't like my teacher.

I didn't hear any more of Sylvia's pop's sermon for a while, on
account of I happened to look out the church window which didn't have
stained glass like some of the churches in town did, and I saw
somebody's barn just on the other side of the little cemetery, and
there were a lot of pigeons flying around over the barn, and in the
sky, right away I was remembering Shorty Long and Big Bob Till, and
wondering where they were, and what they were doing.

I had a heavy feeling inside of me that they would maybe visit all of
the barns of the Sugar Creek Gang's pops, and catch a lot of pigeons,
and maybe they'd catch and kill the pretty brown and white pair of
pigeons which had their nest in the cupola of our barn, and then what
would happen to the _baby_ pigeons?...

Pop didn't come in to church at all on account of deciding to stay
with Mom, but he was there in the car right afterward, and all of us
including Little Jim and Tom Till and Mrs. Long and Charlotte Ann,
shook hands with a lot of people and climbed into our car and drove
away. Pop and all of us were talking and listening as our car went
purring down the road. We were just stopping at Shorty Long's house to
let Mrs. Long out when Little Jim said to me in a half whisper,
"Sylvia's pop certainly preached a good sermon. I _thought_ that was
why some houses didn't have as much snow on their roofs as others,
and why barns always have more snow than houses that people live in.
It was a good sermon."

"What?" I said to Little Jim, not remembering anything in the sermon
about snow on people's houses or barns. Sylvia's pop must have said
that when I was thinking about snowy white wool on Poetry's lamb--or
else about a snow man standing at the bottom of Bumblebee hill....

Pretty soon we came to Tom Till's house. Pop had already told us the
doctor had been there, and Mrs. Till didn't have pneumonia, only a bad
chest cold.

Pop had gone to our house to get one of our battery radios so Mrs.
Till could hear a good Christian program, and she was feeling a lot
better. Pop also had told us that Bob had come home while Mom was
taking care of Mrs. Till but he had gone away again. "Did he have any
pigeons?" Little red-haired Tom asked, w