n' up so much, an' not to go out in de front yard wid
dat ole sunbonnet on?'"
"Well, I'd like to know how things would get done if I didn't do
them," exclaimed Mrs. Hollis, hotly. "I suppose he would like me to
let things go like the Meeches! The only time I ever saw Mrs. Meech
work was when she swept the front pavement, and then she made Martha
walk around behind her and read out loud while she was doing it."
"It's Mr. Meech that's in the yard now," announced Sandy from the
side window. "He's raking the leaves with one hand and a-reading a
book with the other."
"I knew it!" cried Mrs. Hollis. "I never saw such doings. They say she
even leaves the dishes overnight. And yet she can sit on her porch and
smile at people going by, just like her house was cleaned up. I hate a
hypocrite."
Sandy had had ample time to watch the Meeches during his long
convalescence. He had been moved from the spare room to a snug little
room over the kitchen, which commanded a fine view of the neighbors.
When the green book got too heavy to hold, or his eyes grew too tired
to look at the many magazines with which the judge supplied him, he
would lie still and watch the little drama going on next door.
Mrs. Meech was a large, untidy woman who always gave the impression of
needing to be tucked up. The end of her gray braid hung out behind one
ear, her waist hung out of her belt, and even the buttons on her
shoes hung out of the buttonholes in shameless laziness.
Mr. Meech did not need tucking in; he needed letting out. He seemed to
have shrunk in the wash of life. In spite of the fact that he was
three sizes too small for his wife, to begin with, he emphasized it by
wearing trousers that cleared his shoe-tops and sleeves half-way to
his elbows. But this was only on week-days, for on Sunday Sandy would
see him emerge, expand, and flutter forth in an ample suit of shiny
broadcloth. For Mr. Meech was the pastor of the Hard-Shell Baptist
Church in Clayton, and if his domestic economy was a matter of open
gossip, there was no question concerning the fact of his learning. It
had been the boast of the congregation for years that Judge Hollis was
the only man in town who was smart enough to understand his sermons.
When Mr. Meech started out in the morning with a book under his arm
and one sticking out of each pocket, Sandy would pull up on his elbow
to watch proceedings. He loved to see fat Mrs. Meech pat the little
man lovingly on the head
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