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Polly became observant of the teapot, with a curled-up nose indicating some uneasiness of mind.
"Your faithful servant,
My other friend is a minister. I have always been a little shy on meeting preachers[Pg 102] of the gospel. Why I do not know. But there was always something in my make-up that ever made me lukewarm toward men of that class. I had this against ministers, that the most of them whom I had met lacked, for want of a better term, the strong masculine personality all real men should possess. They appeared to me to have a sort of sticky sense of goodness about them that seems unreal for men of this life to have. They left the impression of feminism upon me. I have thought, too, somehow, that the minister of the present does not know life as it really is, that he spends too much of his time in preaching and too little in doing. Of course I believe that as a class they are all doing all they can toward a betterment of social and industrial life, but I would rather they took their facts from life than from books.
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