"and cannot fail of
securing universal approbation. Mrs. Secretary, you will please read the
remaining portion, and then all can be adopted by one joint action of
the house."

"There are but two brief ones to follow," said the secretary, again
coming forward.

"First, Resolved, That the tortuous channel of Wimbledon river be made
straight, and the tyrant man be compelled to perform the labor with
three-inch augers and pap-spoons.

"Secondly, Resolved, That, the steeple of this church, which looms so
boldly impious toward the sky, be felled to the ground, and be converted
into a liberty-pole, with the cast-off petticoats of the enfranchised
women of Wimbledon flaunting proudly from its summit, as an emblem of
the downfall of man's bigotry and despotism, and the triumphant
elevation of woman to her proper sphere among the rulers of the earth."

Great sensation as the lady secretary pronounced the foregoing resolves,
with strong impressiveness of tone and manner. As she retired, Dea.
Allen rose. The lady president sprang from her seat.

"Sit down!" shrieked she, bringing her foot to the platform with a
violence that caused it to tremble. But the deacon did not drop at this
sharp command, as Mr. Mumbles had done.

"I thought you held to liberty and equal rights," said he, with an air
of some boldness.

"I do,--and therefore I tell you to sit down."

"I will speak," said he, returning the defiant looks cast upon him by
both president and secretary; "for religion and right demand it. If you
dare profane with your sacrilegious hands the holy steeple of this house
of God, avenging justice will fall with crushing weight upon your guilty
heads."

Having delivered himself of this dread prediction, the deacon sat down.

In her loftiest style, Mrs. Pimble moved the adoption of the
resolutions, vouchsafing no word of comment on the impertinent
interruption. A brawling, discordant shout of "Ay--ay--ay," in every
possible variety of tones, from a swarm of boisterous boys and ranting
rowdies, was declared a unanimous approval, and in a storm of hisses and
hurrahs the indignation meeting triumphantly adjourned.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

"Fare thee well! and if forever,
Still forever, fare _thee well_,
Even though unforgiving, never
'Gainst thee shall my heart rebel.

Yet, O, yet thyself deceive not;
Love