And over on the parsonage piazza, at the far end in the shelter of the
vines sat Aunt Saxon in the dark crying. Beside her was Mrs. Severn
with her hand on the woman's shoulder talking in her gentle steady
voice. Everybody loved the minister's wife just as much as they loved
the minister: "Yes, he went away on his wheel last night just after dark," she
sobbed. "Yes! he came home after the baseball game, and he made a great
fuss gettin' some paint and brushes and contrapshions fixed on his old
bicycle, and then he went off. Oh, he usually goes off awhile every
night. I can't seem to stop him. I've tried everything short of lockin'
him out. I reckon if I did he'd never come back, an' I can't seem to
bring myself to lock out my sister's baby--!"

"Of course not!" said Mrs. Severn tenderly.

"Well, he stuck his head back in the door this time, an' he said mebbe
he wouldn't be back till mornin', but he'd be back all right for Sunday
School. That's one thing, Mrs. Severn," she lifted her tear stained
face, "That's one thing he does like--his Sunday School, Billy does,
and I'm that glad! Sometimes I just sit down an' cry about it I'm so
glad. You know awhile back when Miss Lynn was off to college that Mr.
Harricutt had the boys' class, an' I couldn't get him to go anyhow.
Why, once I offered to pay him so he could save fer a baseball bat if
he'd go, but do you know he said he'd rather go without baseball bats
fer ever than go listen to that old--Well, Mrs. Severn, I won't repeat
what he said. It wasn't respectful, not to an elder you know. But Miss
Lynn, why he just worships, an' anything she says he does. But that's
one thing worries me, Mrs. Severn, he didn't come back for her
even! He said he'd be back fer Sunday School, an' he hasn't come
back yet!"