“Model for Pupils to Make. Tomb with Rolling
Door.—Use a square covered box turned upside
down. Pull the cover forward a little to form
a groove at the bottom. Cut a square door, also
cut a circle of cardboard to more than cover the door.
Cover the circular door and the tomb thickly with
stiff mixture of sand, flour and water and let it dry.
It was the heavy circular stone over the door the
women found ‘rolled away’ on Easter morning.
This is the story we are to ‘Go-tell.’”
In their advertisements the Sunday School journals
were thoroughly efficient. Babbitt was interested
in a preparation which “takes the place of exercise
for sedentary men by building up depleted nerve tissue,
nourishing the brain and the digestive system.”
He was edified to learn that the selling of Bibles
was a hustling and strictly competitive industry,
and as an expert on hygiene he was pleased by the
Sanitary Communion Outfit Company’s announcement
of “an improved and satisfactory outfit throughout,
including highly polished beautiful mahogany tray.
This tray eliminates all noise, is lighter and more
easily handled than others and is more in keeping with
the furniture of the church than a tray of any other
material.”
IV
He dropped the pile of Sunday School journals.
He pondered, “Now, there’s a real he-world.
Corking!
“Ashamed I haven’t sat in more. Fellow
that’s an influence in the community—shame
if he doesn’t take part in a real virile hustling
religion. Sort of Christianity Incorporated, you
might say.
“But with all reverence.
“Some folks might claim these Sunday School
fans are undignified and unspiritual and so on.
Sure! Always some skunk to spring things like
that! Knocking and sneering and tearing-down—so
much easier than building up. But me, I certainly
hand it to these magazines. They’ve brought
ole George F. Babbitt into camp, and that’s the
answer to the critics!
“The more manly and practical a fellow is, the
more he ought to lead the enterprising Christian life.
Me for it! Cut out this carelessness and boozing
and—Rone! Where the devil you been?
This is a fine time o’ night to be coming in!”
CHAPTER XVII
I
There are but three or four old houses in Floral
Heights, and in Floral Heights an old house is one
which was built before 1880. The largest of these
is the residence of William Washington Eathorne, president
of the First State Bank.
The Eathorne Mansion preserves the memory of the “nice
parts” of Zenith as they appeared from 1860
to 1900. It is a red brick immensity with gray
sandstone lintels and a roof of slate in courses of
red, green, and dyspeptic yellow. There are two
anemic towers, one roofed with copper, the other crowned
with castiron ferns. The porch is like an open
tomb; it is supported by squat granite pillars above
which hang frozen cascades of brick. At one side
of the house is a huge stained-glass window in the
shape of a keyhole.
