To me, it was the feeling that the flat piece of wood
would fly off and hit me. You always duck when you hear a whizzing.
Still, the priests or medicine men trade on the head-ducking tendency.
So, somehow, in the course of time, it gets so that those that listen
have to bow down. Oh, yes! You say it's ridiculous and fanciful and all
that sort of thing. I know. I have heard others say the same. It's only
a noise and nothing to be scared of. But then, when you come to think of
it, most men are scared of noise. They're like animals in that respect.
What is a curse but a noise? Yet most men are secretly afraid of
curses. They're uneasy under them. Yet they know it's only noise. Then
look at thunderings from the pulpit. Look at excommunications. Look at
denunciations. All noises to be sure. But there's the threat of force
behind some of them. The blow may come and again it may not.
"As I said, every one bowed down and of course so did I, on general
principles. Somerfield didn't and the old buck whirled that bull-roarer
over him ever so long, and the red-eyed hag cursed and spat at him, but
he never budged. That sort of conduct is damned foolishness according to
my notion. But then, you see, in a kind of a way he was backing his
prejudices against theirs and prejudices are pretty solid things when
you consider.
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