A Day of Fate | Page 4

a small gray building, old and weather-stained, that
seemed neither a barn, nor a dwelling, nor a school-house. A man was
in the act of unlocking the door, and his garb suggested that it might be
a Friends' meeting-house. Yielding to an idle curiosity I mounted a

stone wall at a point where I was shaded and partially screened by a
tree, and watched and waited, beguiling the time with a branch of
sweetbriar that hung over my resting-place.
Soon strong open wagons and rockaways began to appear drawn by
sleek, plump horses that often, seemingly, were gayer than their drivers.
Still there was nothing sour in the aspect or austere in the garb of the
people. Their quiet appearance took my fancy amazingly, and the
peach-like bloom on the cheeks of even well-advanced matrons
suggested a serene and quiet life.
"These are the people of all others with whom I would like to worship
to-day," I thought; "and I hope that that rotund old lady, whose face
beams under the shadow of her deep bonnet like a harvest moon
through a fleecy cloud, will feel moved to speak." I plucked a few buds
from the sweet-briar bush, fastened them in my button-hole, and
promptly followed the old lady into the meeting-house. Having found a
vacant pew I sat down, and looked around with serene content. But I
soon observed that something was amiss, for the men folk looked at
each other and then at me. At last an elderly and substantial Friend,
with a face so flushed and round as to suggest a Baldwin apple, arose
and creaked with painful distinctness to where I was innocently
infringing on one of their customs.
"If thee will follow me, friend," he said, "I'll give thee a seat with the
men folks. Thee's welcome, and thee'll feel more at home to follow our
ways."
His cordial grasp of my hand would have disarmed suspicion itself, and
I followed him meekly. In my embarrassment and desire to show that I
had no wish to appear forward, I persisted in taking a side seat next to
the wall, and quite near the door; for my guide, in order to show his
goodwill and to atone for what might seem rudeness, was bent on
marshalling me almost up to the high seats that faced the congregation,
where sat my rubicund old Friend lady, whose aspect betokened that
she had just the Gospel message I needed.
I at once noted that these staid and decorous people looked straight

before them in an attitude of quiet expectancy. A few little children
turned on me their round, curious eyes, but no one else stared at the
blundering stranger, whose modish coat, with a sprig of wild roses in
its buttonhole, made him rather a conspicuous contrast to the other men
folk, and I thought--
"Here certainly is an example of good-breeding which could scarcely
be found among other Christians. If one of these Friends should appear
in the most fashionable church on the Avenue, he would be well stared
at, but here even the children are receiving admonitory nudges not to
look at me."
I soon felt that it was not the thing to be the only one who was
irreverently looking around, and my good-fortune soon supplied ample
motive for looking steadily in one direction. The reader may justly
think that I should have composed my mind to meditation on my many
sins, but I might as well have tried to gather in my hands the reins of all
the wild horses of Arabia as to curb and manage my errant thoughts.
My only chance was for some one or something to catch and hold them
for me. If that old Friend lady would preach I was sure she would do
me good. As it was, her face was an antidote to the influences of the
world in which I dwelt, but I soon began to dream that I had found a
still better remedy, for, at a fortunate angle from my position, there sat
a young Quakeress whose side face arrested my attention and held it.
By leaning a little against the wall as well as the back of my bench, I
also, well content, could look straight before me like the others.
The fair profile was but slightly hidden by a hat that had a perceptible
leaning toward the world in its character, but the brow was only made
to seem a little lower, and her eyes deepened in their blue by its shadow.
My sweet-briar blossoms were not more delicate in their pink shadings
than was the bloom on her rounded cheek, and the white, firm chin
denoted an absence of weakness and frivolity. The upper lip, from
where I sat, seemed one half of Cupid's