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Updated: June 22, 2025
The only man in Cottontown who did not like the Bishop was Jud Carpenter, and the only man in the world whom the Bishop did not love was Jud Carpenter. And many a time in his life the old man had prayed: "O God, teach me to love Jud Carpenter and despise his ways." Carpenter glared insolently at the old man quietly reading his paper, and asked satirically. "Wal, what ails her, doctor?"
And as the bath is the greatest civilizer known to man, a marked difference was soon noticed in every inhabitant of Cottontown. They were cleanly, and cleanliness begets a long list of other virtues, beginning with cleaner and better clothes and ending with ambition and godliness.
This the bishop purchased for the company for only ten dollars an acre, and divided it into tracts of twenty acres each, building a neat cottage, dairy and barn, and other outhouses on each tract but all arranged for a family of four or five, and thus sprang up in a year a new settlement of two hundred families around Cottontown.
I can't take you home to-day I'm gwinter take Margaret, an' you an' Jimmie can come along together." No other man could have taken Margaret Adams home and had any standing left, in Cottontown. And soon they were jogging along down the mountain side, toward the cabin where the woman lived and supported herself and boy by her needle.
It was kept, for one week at a time, by each girl in the mill over twenty, the privilege always being given by the mill's physician to the girl who seemed most in need of a week's rest. It came to be a great social feature also, and any pretty afternoon, and all Saturday afternoon, for the mill never ran then could be seen there the young girls and boys of Cottontown.
Among the good features of the mill, established by Alice Travis, was a library, a pretty little building in the heart of Cottontown. It was maintained yearly by the mill, together with donations, and proved to be the greatest educational and refining influence of the mill.
It was her first and last sight of a ginger-man. Two days later she was buried, and few save the old Bishop knew she had died; for Cottontown did not care. The next Sunday was an interesting occasion voted so by all Cottontown when it was over. There was a large congregation out, caused by the announcement of the Bishop the week before.
You'll be wantin' to change our cabin into an ole Colonial home, honey, an' have a carriage an' a pair of roached mules, an' a wantin' me to start a cotton factory an' jine a whis'-club, whilst you entertain the Cottontown Pettico't Club with high-noon teas, an' cut up a lot o' didoes that'll make the res' of the town laugh. But you mus' fight ag'in it, Tabitha, honey.
This made a beautiful pea-green carpet in summer and a comfortable straw-colored matting in winter; and it was the only bit of sentiment that clung to Cottontown. All the rest of it was practical enough: Rows of scurvy three-roomed cottages, all exactly alike, even to the gardens in the rear, laid off in equal breadth and running with the same unkept raggedness up the flinty side of the mountain.
Travis frowned: "The old Bishop of Cottontown," he added ironically "and he had better stop it he will get into trouble yet." "Why?" "Because he is doing the mill harm." "And I don't suppose one should do a corporation harm," she said quickly, "even to do humanity good?" "Oh, Alice, let us drop so disagreeable a subject," said her mother. "Come, Richard and I want some music."
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