The Craigs are just buried anywhere they happen to die . '' `` I 'd like to buried here when I die , '' said Felix . `` But I hope it wo n't be for a good while yet , '' he added in a livelier tone , as we moved onward to the church . The interior of the church was as old-fashioned as its exterior . It was furnished with square box pews ; the pulpit was a `` wine-glass '' one , and was reached by a steep , narrow flight of steps . Uncle Alec 's pew was at the top of the church , quite near the pulpit . Peter 's appearance did not attract as much attention as we had fondly expected . Indeed , nobody seemed to notice him at all . The lamps were not yet lighted and the church was filled with a soft twilight and hush . Outside , the sky was purple and gold and silvery green , with a delicate tangle of rosy cloud above the elms . `` Is n't it awful nice and holy in here ? '' whispered Peter reverently . `` I did n't know church was like this . It 's nice . '' Felicity frowned at him , and the Story Girl touched her with her slippered foot to remind him that he must not talk in church . Peter stiffened up and sat at attention during the service . Nobody could have behaved better . But when the sermon was over and the collection was being taken up , he made the sensation which his entrance had not produced . Elder Frewen , a tall , pale man , with long , sandy side-whiskers , appeared at the door of our pew with the collection plate . We knew Elder Frewen quite well and like him ; he was Aunt Janet 's cousin and often visited her .
The contrast between his week-day jollity and the unearthly solemnity of his countenance on Sundays always struck us XXXXX very funny .
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