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"But he likes to be the big toad in the puddle," said Ewen.
"Well, he certainly seems to, he does indeed, Ewen."
Clear over the droning there arose at this point another sound, a chorus
of childish laughter.
"That's the preacher's class," said Boggs. "Quare sort o' Sunday School
where the kids carry on like that."
"Seems rather peculiar," agreed Nathan, "peculiar in Sunday School, it
does."
"What's the matter with young Pickles?" enquired Ewen.
The eyes of the company, following the pointing finger, fell upon young
Pickles standing at the window of the little vestry to the church, and
looking in. He was apparently convulsed with laughter, with his hand
hard upon his mouth and nose as a kind of silencer.
"Do you know what's the matter with him, Pat?" continued Ewen.
Pat McCann, the faithful friend and shadow of young Pickles, after
studying the attitude and motions of his friend, gave answer:
"It's the preacher, I guess. He's kiddin' the kids inside. He's some
kidder, too," he said, moving to take his place beside his friend.


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