The Gilded Age


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now and then and made a stitch or two upon a calico shirt for some poor  
Bibleless pagan of the South Seas, and this act enchanted the ladies,  
who regarded the garments thus honored as in a manner sanctified.  
The Senator wrought in Bible classes, and nothing could keep him away  
from the Sunday Schools--neither sickness nor storms nor weariness.  
He even traveled a tedious thirty miles in a poor little rickety  
stagecoach to comply with the desire of the miserable hamlet of  
Cattleville that he would let its Sunday School look upon him.  
All the town was assembled at the stage office when he arrived,  
two bonfires were burning, and a battery of anvils was popping exultant  
broadsides; for a United States Senator was a sort of god in the  
understanding of these people who never had seen any creature mightier  
than a county judge. To them a United States Senator was a vast, vague  
colossus, an awe inspiring unreality.  
Next day everybody was at the village church a full half hour before time  
for Sunday School to open; ranchmen and farmers had come with their  
families from five miles around, all eager to get a glimpse of the great  
man--the man who had been to Washington; the man who had seen the  
President of the United States, and had even talked with him; the man who  
had seen the actual Washington Monument--perhaps touched it with his  
hands.  
When the Senator arrived the Church was crowded, the windows were full,  
the aisles were packed, so was the vestibule, and so indeed was the yard  
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562 563 564 565 566

Quick Jump
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