" SInce we built the church there were pewter candle-sticks upon the altar; Francis Nurse made them, y'know, and a sweeter hand never touched the metal. But Parris came, and for twenty week he preach nothin' but golden candlesticks until he had them. I labor the earth from dawn of day to blink of night, and I tell you true, when I look to heaven and see my money glaring at his elbows- it hurt my prayer sir, it hurt my prayer. I think, sometimes the man dreams cathedrals, not clapboard meetin' house."