Prudence of the Parsonage | Page 5

will
make them, and I was happy on their account. That's why I couldn't
resist saying my prayers,--I was so happy I couldn't hold in."
As they walked slowly toward the house, Mrs. Adams looked at this
parsonage girl in frank curiosity and some dismay, which she strongly
endeavored to conceal from the bright-eyed Prudence. The Ladies had
said it would be so nice to have a grown girl in the parsonage!
Prudence was nineteen from all account, but she looked like a child
and--well, it was not exactly grown-up to give thanks for a barn, to say
the very least! Yet this girl had full charge of four younger children,

and was further burdened with the entire care of a minister-father! Well,
well! Mrs. Adams sighed a little.
"You are tired," said Prudence sympathetically. "It's so hot walking,
isn't it? Let's sit on the porch until you are nicely rested. Isn't this a
lovely yard? And the children will be so happy to have this delicious
big porch. Oh, I just adore Mount Mark already."
"This is a fine chance for us to get acquainted," said the good woman
with eagerness.
Now if the truth must be told, there had been some ill feeling in the
Ladies' Aid Society concerning the reception of Prudence. After the
session of Conference, when the Reverend Mr. Starr was assigned to
Mount Mark, the Ladies of the church had felt great interest in the man
and his family. They inquired on every hand, and learned several
interesting items. The mother had been taken from the family five years
before, after a long illness, and Prudence, the eldest daughter, had taken
charge of the household. There were five children. So much was known,
and being women, they looked forward with eager curiosity to the
coming of Prudence, the young mistress of the parsonage.
Mr. Starr had arrived at Mount Mark a week ahead of his family. The
furniture had been shipped from his previous charge, and he, with the
assistance of a strong and willing negro, had "placed it" according to
the written instructions of Prudence, who had conscientiously outlined
just what should go in every room. She and the other children had spent
the week visiting at the home of their aunt, and Prudence had come on
a day in advance of the others to "wind everything up," as she had
expressed it.
But to return to the Ladies,--the parsonage girls always capitalized the
Ladies of their father's church, and indeed italicized them, as well. And
the irrepressible Carol had been heard to remark, "I often feel like
exclamation-pointing them, I promise you." But to return once more.
"One of us should go and help the dear child," said Mrs. Scott, the
president of the Aids, when they assembled for their business meeting,

"help her, and welcome her, and advise her."
"I was thinking of going over," said one, and another, and several
others.
"Oh, that will not do at all," said the president; "she would be excited
meeting so many strangers, and could not properly attend to her work.
That will never do, never, never! But one of us must go, of course."
"I move that the president appoint a committee of one to help Miss
Prudence get settled, and welcome her to our midst," said Mrs. Barnaby,
secretly hoping that in respect for her making this suggestion honoring
the president, the president would have appreciation enough to appoint
Mrs. Barnaby herself as committee.
The motion was seconded, and carried.
"Well," said Mrs. Scott slowly, "I think in a case like this the president
herself should represent the society. Therefore, I will undertake this
duty for you."
But this called forth a storm of protest and it became so clamorous that
it was unofficially decided to draw cuts! Which was done, and in
consequence of that drawing of cuts, Mrs. Adams now sat on the front
porch of the old gray parsonage, cheered by the knowledge that every
other Lady of the Aid was envying her!
"Now, just be real sociable and tell me all about yourself, and the
others, too," urged Mrs. Adams. "I want to know all about every one of
you. Tell me everything."
"There isn't much to tell," said Prudence, smiling. "There are five of us;
I am the oldest, I am nineteen. Then comes Fairy, then the twins, and
then the baby."
"Are the twins boys, or a boy and a girl?"
"Neither," said Prudence, "they are both girls."

"More girls!" gasped Mrs. Adams. "And the baby?"
"She is a girl, too." And Prudence laughed. "In short, we are all girls
except father. He couldn't be, of course,--or I suppose he would, for our
family does seem to run to girls."
"Prudence is a very nice name for a minister's