things beside the great peals of thunder that crashed down from the sky.
God was talking. Each terrible roar shook the church. The glass windows shivered and rattled, and the wind whirled and lashed the trees. Budda Ben turned and twisted and groaned, and kept looking behind him at the glass windows which let the glares of lightning shine right in on his back.
"I have hear-say glass draws lightnin, Si May-e."
Mary shook her head. She didn't know. She had never been around glass in her life. So much glass did look dangerous.
Then she thought of the Big House with glass windows all over it and all kinds of glass inside; looking-glasses and chandeliers hung with hundreds of pieces of glass. Lightning had never struck it, and it had stood there a hundred years. "No use to fret, Budda."
Just as she said it a-pain hit her so hard she groaned, "Do, Jedus, have mercy." She sat still for it to pass off, but a trembling seized her. She could not keep still.
"I got to go home, Budda" Budda did not understand her. "Home, I tell you—I got to go home." She tried to stand up, but Budda pulled her back.
