that I did let all that business bother me at first. I got so
keyed up over it up there at Cranston that I couldn't hardly think of
anything else for quite a while. I had private talks with this Bible
student and that in a roundabout way to see if I couldn't arrive at a
decision, but couldn't seem to get anywhere. They all said the clean
must be kept away from the unclean--that you couldn't handle manure
without smelling of it, and that goats stink and cows don't. But one
night, while I was lying in my hot bed, unable to doze off, and
thinking--thinking whether I ought to tell that hard-faced old
hypocrite, Whaley, the thing that I was sure would kill poor John's
chances to get his first happiness in his own little cottage--I was
lying there, I say, when the thought come to me, as sudden as a streak
of lightning, that an all-wise God created Liz Trott and Jane Holder and
permitted temptation to meet them. The same God made John's daddy and
let him go to his grave with a lowered head. The same Power fetched John
into the world in that joint of hell over there and put one of the
soundest heads on his shoulders that I ever run across. The same Power
caused me to see the boy loafing about town and shooting craps with the
negroes, and induced me to hire him. I never regretted it. I love to see
him climb as much as if he was my own flesh and blood, and--and I simply
love the little hard-working girl he has picked out. All that flashed on
me, and I got up and prayed. Right there I laid the whole thing before
God, and something seemed to tell me that Jesus was right when he said
we must first get the beam out of our eyes before using a spy-glass on
the eyes of others. That was enough for me. The subject hasn't bothered
me since. Them folks up there at Cranston will never hear about Liz
Trott and her doings from me."

Mrs. Cavanaugh shrugged again. She went for her dish-pan and began to
put the dishes into the hot water it contained.

"Well, what have you got to say?" her husband demanded.

"You and me," she replied, gingerly testing the heat of the water with
her finger-tips, "never could agree on one thing. You contend that God
uses wrong for a purpose, but I say He has nothing to do with it. Say,
Sam, look away back to our own wedding. When you fetched me here, your
ma and pa gave us a big infare, and all the kin from everywhere was
invited, and come, too, with presents and good things to eat, and no end
of nice folks calle