it the better of 'em in a
argument. I ricollect us women talked that sermon over at the Mite
Society, and Maria Petty says: 'I don't know but what it's a wrong
thing to say, but it looks to me like that Commandment wasn't intended
for anybody but them Israelites. It was mighty easy for them to keep
the Sabbath day holy, but,' says she, 'the Lord don't rain down manna
in my yard. And,' says she, 'men can stop plowin' and plantin' on
Sunday, but they don't stop eatin', and as long as men have to eat on
Sunday, women'll have to work.'

"And Sally Ann, she spoke up, and says she, 'That's so; and these very
preachers that talk so much about keepin' the Sabbath day holy,
they'll walk down out o' their pulpits and set down at some woman's
table and eat fried chicken and hot biscuits and corn bread and five
or six kinds o' vegetables, and never think about the work it took to
git the dinner, to say nothin' o' the dish-washin' to come after.'

"There's one thing, child, that I never told to anybody but Abram; I
reckon it was wicked, and I ought to be ashamed to own it, but"--here
her voice fell to a confessional key--"I never did like Sunday till I
begun to git old. And the way Sunday used to be kept, it looks to me
like nobody could 'a' been expected to like it but old folks and lazy
folks. You see, I never was one o' these folks that's born tired. I
loved to work. I never had need of any more rest than I got every
night when I slept, and I woke up every mornin' ready for the day's
work. I hear folks prayin' for rest and wishin' for rest, but, honey,
all my prayer was, 'Lord, give me work, and strength enough to do
it.' And when a person looks at all the things there is to be done in
this world, they won't feel like restin' when they ain't tired.

"Abram used to say he believed I tried to make work for myself Sunday
and every other day; and I ricollect I used to be right glad when any
o' the neighbors'd git sick on Sunday and send for me to help nurse
'em. Nursing the sick was a work o' necessity, and mercy, too. And
then, child, the Lord don't ever rest. The Bible says He rested on the
seventh day when He got through makin' the world, and I reckon that
was rest enough for Him. For, jest look; everything goes on Sundays
jest the same as week-days. The grass grows, and the sun shines, and
the wind blows, and He does it all."

"'For still the Lord is Lord of might;
In deeds, in deeds He takes delight,'"

I said.