A pastor was spending the Saturday afternoon at a house in the little country town where he preached. After lunch he was sitting out on the front porch with his host and his wife when their two children rushed up, one of them swinging a dead rat over his head by the tail. "Look, ma! Don't be afraid, it's dead," exulted the boy, oblivious to his mother's embarrassment. "Yeah, ma," shouted the girl. "We bashed him in the head with a stick, then we stoned him, then we took a rake to him, and we whacked him and hacked him until" - and then catching sight of the amused clergyman, she finished in a lowered, respectful voice - "until the good Lord called him home."