usly denied, and Aunt Rebecca
was informed of the subject upon which her visitors had come to have a
very plain talk with her husband.
Strange to say, the announcement of the new and startling dogma had
apparently no disturbing effect upon Aunt Rebecca. On the contrary, the
old woman seemed rather to enjoy the news.
"Reckin he oughter know all 'bout dat," she said. "He's done had three
wives, an' he ain't got rid o' dis one yit."
Judging from her chuckles and waggings of the head when she made this
remark, it might be imagined that Aunt Rebecca was rather proud of the
fact that her husband thought her capable of exhibiting a different kind
of diabolism every day in the week.
The leader of the indignant church members was Susan Henry, a mulatto
woman of a very independent turn of mind. She prided herself that she
never worked in anybody's house but her own, and this immunity from
outside service gave her a certain pre-eminence among her sisters. Not
only did Susan share the general resentment with which the startling
statement of old Peter had been received, but she felt that its
promulgation had affected her position in the community. If every woman
was possessed by seven devils, then, in this respect, she was no better
nor worse than any of the others; and at this her proud heart rebelled.
If the preacher had said some women had eight devils and others six, it
would have been better. She might then have made a mental arrangement in
regard to her relative position which would have somewhat consoled her.
But now there was no chance for that. The words of the preacher had
equally debased all women.
A meeting of the disaffected church members was held the next night at
Susan Henry's cabin, or rather in the little yard about it, for the
house was not large enough to hold the people who attended it. The
meeting was not regularly organized, but everybody said what he or she
had to say, and the result was a great deal of clamor, and a general
increase of indignation against Uncle Pete.
"Look h'yar!" cried Susan, at the end of some energetic remarks, "is dar
enny pusson h'yar who kin count up figgers?"
Inquiries on the subject ran through the crowd, and in a few moments a
black boy, about fourteen, was pushed forward as an expert in
arithmetic.
"Now, you Jim," said Susan, "you's been to school, an' you kin count up
figgers. 'Cordin' ter de chu'ch books dar's forty-seben women b'longin'
to our meetin', an' ef e
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