midday
`` Law ! do n't you go to stirrin ' on him up , '' said Mrs. Solomon Page comfortably , putting on the cover of her butter-box , which had contained the family lunch . `` If the store 's closed , he can slip the letter into the box , an ' three cents with it , an ' they 'll put a stamp on in the mornin ' . '' By this time , there was a general dusting of crumbs from Sunday gowns , a settling of boxes and baskets , and the feminine portion of the East Tiverton congregation , according to ancient custom , passed into the pews nearest the stove , and arranged itself more compactly for the midday gossip . This was a pleasant interlude in the religious decorum of the day ; no Sunday came when the men did not trail off to the store for their special council , and the women , with a restful sense of sympathy alloyed by no disturbing element , settled down for an exclusively feminine view of the universe . Mrs. Page took the head of the pew , and disposed her portly frame so as to survey the scene with ease . She was a large woman , with red cheeks and black , shining hair .