"That's the way I felt the first
few Sundays in the church we go to here; it was so big and high, and had
so many colors on the walls, and such dark, purple corners. I kept
expecting something to happen; but I'm getting over it a little, for
nothing ever does, you know, except the preaching and singing. Only,
Sara, that reminds me: there's one thing I've been going to ask you
about this ever so long; are the singers all hunchbacks, like Zeba
Osterhaus?"
"Dear me! no, Molly, I hope not. What a question!"
"Well, then, what makes them hide so behind those red curtains? I've
tried and tried to see if they were like other folks, but I couldn't;
and if they are, I don't see why they act so queer!"
Sara tried to explain, but Molly evidently still held to her original
opinion; there was some mysterious reason for their modesty, else why
did they not stand out plain and high, as did the village choir at home?
And it was many weeks before she could be moved from her stand in the
matter.
Sara's work went on much the same after the close of the collegiate
year, though now Professor Macon was away a large part of the time; yet,
as he was constantly sending home cases of specimens, she was usually
kept nearly as busy as before.
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