Eluding his wife 's restraining grasp , he gave one mad spring over the front of the pew and caught the unfortunate Whiskers-on-the-moon by his coat collar . Mr. Pryor had not `` stopped '' when so bidden , but he stopped now , perforce , for Norman , his long red beard literally bristling with fury , was shaking him until his bones fairly rattled , and punctuating his shakes with a lurid assortment of abusive epithets . `` You blatant beast ! '' -- shake -- `` You malignant carrion '' -- shake -- `` You pig-headed varmint ! '' -- shake -- `` you putrid pup '' -- shake -- `` you pestilential parasite '' -- shake -- `` you -- Hunnish scum '' -- shake -- `` you indecent reptile -- you -- you -- '' Norman choked for a moment . Everybody believed that the next thing he would say , church or no church , would be something that would have to be spelt with asterisks ; but at that moment Norman encountered his wife 's eye and he fell back with a thud on Holy Writ . `` You whited sepulchre ! '' he bellowed , with a final shake , and cast Whiskers-on-the-moon from him with a vigour which impelled that unhappy pacifist to the very verge of the choir entrance door . Mr. Pryor 's once ruddy face was ashen . But he turned at bay . `` I 'll have the law on you for this , '' he gasped . `` Do -- do , '' roared Norman , making another rush . But Mr. Pryor was gone . He had no desire to fall a second time into the hands of an avenging militarist . Norman turned to the platform for one graceless , triumphant moment . `` Do n't look so flabbergasted , parsons , '' he boomed . `` You could n't do it -- nobody would expect it of the cloth -- but somebody had to do it . You know you 're glad I threw him out -- he could n't be let go on yammering and yodelling and yawping sedition and treason . Sedition and treason -- somebody had to deal with it . I was born for this hour -- I 've had my innings in church at last .
I can sit quiet XXXXX another sixty years now !
at by for from on over that to until with