and said all were in good standing until his name was brought up. Then Andrew, the blacksmith, stood up and rebuked him before the whole congregation for cursing little children and blaspheming God's name. Andrew did not tell the people that the children were his and Doll's no-mannered bunch, or how those children tormented him every day God sent. Budda never meddled the pesky black devils. He never meddled anybody. He spent his days sitting here on the wood-pile cutting tough pine stumps into light wood splinters for everybody in the Quarters who needed them. No day passed without one of those same children coming for some of his nice, fat, pine splinters. When he half-soled shoes for Andrew or Doll, he always took extra pains because Andrew was a deacon in the church. Yet those children discounted him and plagued him, and laughed at him because he couldn't run them down and catch them and beat hell out of them. Andrew had no right to be unmannerable to him. Not a bit. He told Andrew right to his big black face what he was, too. Then all the other deacons sided with Andrew against him and said he was too sinful to be a church-member. Sunday, yesterday, right before the whole congregation at Heaven's Gate Church. Andrew
