"I don't know, an' I don't care anyhow, an' I ain't goin' to catch no spider for the sake of findin' out. He'll eat just as well as she will, I reckon, an' if I have any doubts, my ways of settlin' 'em 'll be by parboilin' instead of spiders." So saying Susan rose, sought her duck, and departed. CHAPTER XIII MONOTONY OF MINISTERIAL MONOLOGUES Mrs. Lathrop never went to church. She had relinquished church when she had given up all other social joys that called for motive power beyond the limits of her own fence. Elijah rarely ever went to church. The getting the paper out Friday for Saturday delivery wore on him so that he nearly always slept until noon on Sunday. So Susan went alone week after week, just as she had been going alone for years and years and years. She always wore a black dress to church, her mother's cashmere shawl, and a bonnet of peculiar shape which had no strings and fitted closely around her head. She always took about an hour and a half to get home from church, although it was barely ten minutes' walk, and she always went in Mrs. Lathrop's gate instead of her own when she did get home. Mrs. Lathrop knew almost to the minute when to expect her and was invariably seated ready and waiting. One late May day when Susan returned from church she followed her usual course of Sunday observances by going straight to her neighbor's and sitting down hard on one of the latter's kitchen chairs, but she differed from her usual course by her expression, which--usually bland and fairly contented with the world in general--was this morning most bitterly set and firmly assured in displeasure. "Well," said Mrs. Lathrop, somewhat alarmed but attempting to speak pleasantly, "was--" "No," said Susan, "I should say not." Then she unpinned her hat and ran the pin through the crown with a vicious directness that bore out her words to the full. "Susan!" said Mrs. Lathrop, appalled, "why--"