Dulcibel | Page 2

Parris as
presiding elder or minister.
There had been many bickerings and disputes before a minister could
be found acceptable to all in Salem village. And the present minister
was by no means a universal favorite. The principal point of contention
on his part was the parsonage and its adjacent two acres of ground.
Master Parris claimed that the church had voted him a free gift of these;
while his opponents not only denied that it had been done, but that it
lawfully could be done. This latter view was undoubtedly correct; for
the parsonage land was a gift to the church, for the perpetual use of its
pastor, whosoever he might be. But Master Parris would not listen to
reason on this subject, and was not inclined to look kindly upon the
men who steadfastly opposed him.

The inhabitants of Salem village were a goodly as well as godly people,
but owing to these church differences about their ministers, as well as
other disputes and lawsuits relative to the bounds of their respective
properties, there was no little amount of ill feeling among them. Small
causes in a village are just as effective as larger ones in a nation, in
producing discord and strife; and the Puritans as a people were
distinguished by all that determination to insist upon their rights, and
that scorn of compromising difficulties, which men of earnest and
honest but narrow natures have manifested in all ages of the world.
Selfishness and uncharitableness are never so dangerous as when they
assume the character of a conscientious devotion to the just and the
true.
But all this time the young man has been walking almost due north
from the meeting house in Salem village.
The road was not what would be called a good one in these days, for it
was not much more than a bridle-path; the riding being generally at that
time on horseback. But it was not the rather broken and uneven
condition of the path which caused the frown on the young pedestrian's
face, or the irritability shown by the sharp slashes of the maple switch
in his hand upon the aspiring weeds along the roadside.
"If ever mortal man was so bothered," he muttered at last, coming to a
stop. "Of course she is the best match, the other is below me, and has a
spice of Satan in her; but then she makes the blood stir in a man. Ha!"
This exclamation came as he lifted his eyes from the ground, and gazed
up the road before him. There, about half a mile distant, was a young
woman riding toward him. Then she stopped her horse under a tree, and
evidently was trying to break off a switch, while her horse pranced
around in a most excited fashion. The horse at last starts in a rapid
gallop. The young man sees that in trying to get the switch, she has
allowed the bridle to get loose and over the horse's head, and can no
longer control the fiery animal. Down the road towards him she comes
in a sharp gallop, striving to stop the animal with her voice, evidently
not the least frightened, but holding on to the pommel of the saddle
with one hand while she makes desperate grasps at the hanging rein

with the other.
The young Puritan smiled, he took in the situation with a glance, and
felt no fear for her but rather amusement. He was on the top of a steep
hill, and he knew he could easily stop the horse as it came up; even if
she did not succeed in regaining her bridle, owing to the better chances
the hill gave her.
"She is plucky, anyhow, if she is rather a tame wench," said he, as the
girl grasped the bridle rein at last, when about half way up the hill, and
became again mistress of the blooded creature beneath her.
"Is that the way you generally ride, Dulcibel?" asked the young man
smiling.
"It all comes from starting without my riding whip," replied the girl.
"Oh, do stop!" she continued to the horse who now on the level again,
began sidling and curveting.
"Give me that switch of yours, Jethro. Now, you shall see a miracle."
No sooner was the switch in her hand, than the aspect and behavior of
the animal changed as if by magic. You might have thought the little
mare had been raised in the enclosure of a Quaker meeting-house, so
sober and docile did she seem.
"It is always so," said the girl laughing. "The little witch knows at once
whether I have a whip with me or not, and acts accordingly. No, I will
not forgive you," and she gave the horse two or three sharp cuts, which