So did Dad.
He stared through the window at the parson's sleepy-looking horse, fastened to the fence.

Dad wished to heaven it would break away, or drop dead, or do anything to provide him with an excuse to run out.
But it was a faithful steed.

It stood there leaning on its forehead against a post.

There was a brief silence.
Then the minister joked about his appetite--at which only Joe could afford to smile--and asked, "May I trouble you for just another scone ?" Mother muttered something like "Yes, of course," and went out to the kitchen just as if there had been some there.

Dad was very uncomfortable.