But this frontier picture is not wholly stern in its lines. Along with this simplicity of life and severity of religious doctrine there was no lack of frolic and rough joking, and the other rugged characteristics were relieved by shrewd wit and native humor. The annals of Bedford are entertaining and abound in such anecdotes as these: Deacon John Orr (the grandfather of the mother of Zachariah Chandler) was a sturdy Irish-Scotchman, whose temper under extreme provocation once got the better of his devoutness and led him into a vigorous profanity of speech. This glaring dereliction in a church officer called for reprimand, and he was waited upon by the minister and a delegation of his brethren who asked, "How could you suffer yourself to speak so?" "Why, what was it?" His offending language was repeated to him. "And what o' that!" said he, "D'ye expect me to be a' spirit and nae flesh?" Late in life Deacon Orr visited Boston with a load of produce and put up at a house of entertainment where, after he had drunk several cups of tea, and refused a final invitation, the landlady said that it was customary to turn the cup upside down to show that no more was wanted. He apologized and promised to remember the injunction. The next morning he partook of a huge bowl of bread and milk for breakfast, and not wanting the whole laid down his spoon and turned the dish upside down with its contents on the table. The hostess was naturally angry, but was met with the statement that he had merely followed her own direction. The answer of a brother deacon to one of the congregation who complained, "I could na' mak yesterday's preaching come together," was a compend of practical Christianity: "Trouble yourself na' about that, man--a' ye have to do, man, is to fear God and keep His commandments." It is also told that the objections of one of the staunch Scotch Presbyterians of Bedford to the marriage of his daughter with an urgent suitor of Catholic parentage were overcome by the apt query, "If a man happened to be born in a stable would that make him a horse?" And to one of the rural theologians of the town is credited this contribution to ecclesiastical distinctions: "The difference between the Presbyterians and Congregationalists is this: The Congregationalist goes home and eats a regular dinner between services, but the Presbyterian postpones his until after meeting." After a most vigorous quarrel between the minister and one of the flock over a boundary line dispute, the wrathful member of the congregation was prompt at service on Sunday with the following explanation: "I'd have ye to know, if I did quarrel with the minister, I did not quarrel with the Gospel."