prayers; they were polite during what were known as "inspirational addresses" by the bishop and the Rev. Dr. S. Palmer Shootz. But they were waiting for the moment when the bishop should read the list of appointments.
They looked as blank as they could, but their nails creased their palms as the bishop rose. They tried to be loyal to their army, but this lean parson thought of the boy who was going to college, this worried-faced youngster thought of the operation for his wife, this aged campaigner whose voice had been failing wondered whether he would be kept on in his well-padded church.
The bishop's snappy voice popped:
Sparta District:
Albee Center, W. A. Vance
Ardmore, Abraham Mundon—
And Elmer listened with them, suddenly terrified.
What did the bishop mean by a "rather larger town"? Some horrible hole with twelve hundred people?
Then he startled and glowed, and his fellow priests nodded to him in congratulation, as the bishop read out "Rudd Center, Elmer Gantry."
For there were forty-one hundred people in Rudd Center; it was noted for good works and a large pop factory; and he was on his way to greatness, to inspiring the world and becoming a bishop.
