Wayside Courtships | Page 9

by contrast. As he looked at them the thought
came to him, What is the goodness of a girl--of a child? It is not
partisan--it is not of creeds, of articles--it is goodness of thought, of
deeds. His face lighted up with the inward feeling of this idea, and he
rose resolutely.
"Friends, with the help of Christ I am come among you to do you good.
I shall hold meetings each night here in the schoolhouse until we can
unite and rebuild the church again. Let me say now, friends, that I was
educated a Baptist. My father was a faithful worker in the Baptist
Church, and so was his father before him. I was educated in a Baptist
college, and I came here hoping to build up a Baptist Church." He
paused.
"But I see my mistake. I am here to build up a Church of Christ, of
good deeds and charity and peace, and so I here say I am no longer a
Baptist or Methodist. I am only a preacher, and I will not rest until I
rebuild the church which stands rotting away there." His voice rang
with intellectual determination as he uttered those words.
The people listened. There was no movement now. Even the babies
seemed to feel the need of being silent. When he began again it was to

describe that hideous wreck. He delineated the falling plaster, the litter
around the pulpit, the profanation of the walls. "It is a symbol of your
sinful hearts," he cried.
Much more he said, carried out of himself by his passion. It was as if
the repentant spirit of his denominational fathers were speaking
through him; and yet he was not so impassioned that he did not see, or
at least feel, the eyes of the strong young girl fixed upon him; his
resolution he spoke looking at her, and a swift response seemed to leap
from her eyes.
When it was over, some of the Methodists and one of the Baptists came
up to shake hands with him, awkwardly wordless, and the pressure of
their hands helped him. Many of the Baptist brethren slipped outside to
discuss the matter. Some were indignant, others much more moved.
Allen went by him with an audible grunt of derision, and there was a
dark scowl on his face, but Mattie smiled at him, with tears still in her
eyes. She had been touched by his vibrant voice; she had no sins to
repent of.
The skeptics of the neighborhood were quite generally sympathetic.
"You've struck the right trail now, parson," said Chapman, as they
walked homeward together. "The days of the old-time
denominationalism are about played out."
But the young preacher was not so sure of it--now that his inspiration
was gone. He remembered his debt to his college, to his father, to the
denomination, and it was not easy to set aside the grip of such
memories.
He sat late revolving the whole situation in his mind. When he went to
bed it was still with him, and involved itself with his dreams; but
always the young girl smiled upon him with sympathetic eyes and told
him to go on--or so it seemed to him.
He was silent at breakfast. He went to school with a feeling that a
return to teaching little tow-heads to count and spell was now

impossible. He sat in his scarred and dingy desk, while they took their
places, and his eyes had a passionate intensity of prayer in them which
awed the pupils. He had assumed new grandeur and terror in their eyes.
When they were seated he bowed his head and uttered a short plea for
grace, and then he looked at them again.
On the low front seat, with dangling legs and red round faces, sat the
little ones. Someway he could not call them to his knees and teach them
to spell; he felt as if he ought to call them to him, as Christ did, to teach
them love and reverence. It was impossible that they should not be
touched by this hideous neighborhood of hate and strife.
Behind them sat the older children, some of them with rough, hard, sly
faces. Some grinned rudely and nudged each other. The older girls sat
with bated breath; they perceived something strange in the air. Most of
them had heard his sermon the night before.
At last he broke silence. "Children, there is something I must say to you
this morning. I'm going to have meeting here to-night, and it may be I
shall not be your teacher any more--I mean in school. I wish you'd go
home to-day and tell your people to come to church here to-night. I
wish you'd all come yourselves. I want you to be