"When I remember back, that day is all of a whirl to me. We got the notice in the daily paper bold as a lion, that there would be a party to the schoolhouse that night, free to everybody. We posted the notice everywheres, and sent it out around by word of mouth. And when we'd gone too far to go back, we walked in on Mis' Sykes--all but Abagail, that had pitched in to making the cakes--and we told her what we'd done, so she shouldn't have any of the blame. "She took it calm, not because calm is Christian, I bet, but because calm is grand lady. "'It's what I always said,' says she, 'would be the way, if the women run things.' "'Women don't run things,' says Mis' Toplady, placid, 'an' I hope to the land they never will. But I believe the time'll come when men an' women'll run 'em together, like the Lord meant, an' when women can see that they're mothers to all men an' not just to their little two-by-four families.' "'My duty to men is in my own home,' says Mis' Sykes, regal. "'So is mine,' says Mis' Toplady, 'for a beginning. But it don't stop in my wood box nor my clothes-basket nor yet in my mixin'-bowl.' "We went off and left her--it's almost impossible to federate Mis' Sykes into anything. And we went up to the building and made our preparations. And then we laid low for the evening, to see what it would bring. "I was putting on my hat that night in front of the hall-tree looking-glass when J. Horace Myers come up on the front porch to call for Minerva. He was all dressed up, and she come downstairs in a little white dimity she had, trimmed with lace that didn't cost much of anything, and looking like a picture. They sat down on the porch for a little, and I heard them talking while I was hunting one o' my gloves. "'Ain't it the dandiest night!' says J. Horace Myers. "'Ain't it!' says Minerva. 'I should say. My! I'm glad I come to this town!' "'I'm awful glad you did, too,' says J. Horace. 'I thought first it was awful lonesome here, but I guess--' "'They're goin' to have music to-night,' says Minerva, irrelevant. "'Cricky!' says the little photograph man. "Minerva had her arm around a porch post and she sort of swung back and forth careless, and--'My!' she said, 'I just do love to go. Have you ever travelled anywheres?' "'Texas an' through there,' he says. 'I'm goin' again some day, when--' "'I'm goin' West now,' says Minerva. 'I just can't stand it long in one place, unless,' she added, 'it's _awful_ nice.'