But since she had been sick, her husband had thought it hardly worth while to harness up his horses, though he said any one might go who chose to walk.

Few, however, were able to walk; so they remained at home, and Sunday was usually the noisiest day in the week.

Sal Furbush generally took the lead, and mounting the kitchen table, sung camp meeting hymns as loud as she could scream.
Uncle Peter fiddled, Patsy nodded and laughed, the girl with crooked feet by way of increasing the bedlam would sometimes draw a file across the stove-pipe, while Miss Grundy scolded, and declared "she could not and would not have such a noise." "Shut your head, madam, and there'll be less," was Sal's ready rejoinder, as at the end of a verse she paused for breath.
The first Sabbath Mary looked on in perfect amazement, but the next one she spent in her own room, and after a deal of trouble, succeeded in coaxing Sal to stay there too, listening while she read to her from her little Bible.

But the reading was perplexing business, for Sal constantly corrected her pronunciation, or stopped her while she expounded Scripture, and at last in a fit of impatience Mary tossed the book into the crazy creature's lap, asking her to read her self.
This was exactly what Sal wanted, and taking the foot of Mary's bed for her rostrum, she read and preached so furiously, that Mary felt almost glad when Miss Grundy came up to stop the racket, and locked Sal in her own room..