The daily national Whig. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1847-1849, 1849-02-07

But Deacon UoouhaH - = 'N's'''"p'N
man. said the choir leader.
sOo most occasions, replied the minister
i so 90 and see him, sir, for my mind is
made up il he sings in meeting, do not
4 deacon Goodman, said the minister, j
have come on q delicate errand; lhave come
to present the respectful request Of the choir
! that you would not sing il meeting.
The Deacon was thunderstruck but hs
soon recovered, 'Singingis praying said
he: They may just as well asl, rne not to
pray: ] shall sing in meeting And on
the next Sunday, sure enough he did loud
er, and if possible, more inharmohious than
ever The men singers looked daggers at
him; the girls hid their smiles behind their
music books. Little Mary was not there.
| this shall stop, said the choir leader. Il
will so and see him myself.
deacon Goodman, we all most highly
respect you, as you. must well know: but
you hare mol the musical ear nor the musical
voice, and il is the earnest wish Of the choir,
and many Of the congregation, that You do
not again sing in meeting
! The Deacon was again thunderstruck,
but soon recovered. Singing is praying,
said he, 'and they might as well tell me not
TO pray. shall sing in meeting
/ The good Deacon was dreadlully set in
his way, and so it went on again week after
week, in the same old way.
| But an incident occurred, which contribu-
ted much to bring this singular case 10 cri-
sis. About two miles from the Deacon's
comfortable dwelling, there was wretched
hoyel, which imperfectly sheltered the wretch
ed wife and children of still more wretched
drankard
On one Of the most Indictment evenings
Of New England January, the Deacon and
his family were cheerfully and thankfully
enjoying glorious hickory fire; Mrs. Good
man was sewing for the family, and her
daughters for the Missionary Society. His
son was reading the Massachusetts, Plough
man, and the good man himself was Just
finishing of sermon by distinguished di
vine of his own denomination, when bang
went the front door, and in came his good
neighbor and own beloved and respected
Minister. sWhy! | never!' said Deacon
Goodman what has brought you along in
such night as tnisn Now, this Minister
had his peculiarities as well as the Deacon.
Among others, he was very close mouthed
about his own good deeds. He merely an
swersd, Il have been about my duty, hope
The fact was he had been to visit, and to
talk, and pray, with poor dying negro.
Seems to me you are rather crusty,'
said the Deacon, 'but ! suppose you are half
frozen, and so sit down and thaw yourself
out
i thank you, said the Minister, 'but
merely called to tell YOU that have Just left
scene Of misery; and want you To go
On my way here and home, / passed that
wretched howell which we all know SO well
! felt il my duty 10 stop and learn the cause
Of the terrible uproar within. found the
wretch beating bis wife; and her screams,
and his horrid oahs made my blood run cold.
| Knocked the rascal down; ('served him
right, said the Deacon,) and think he will
be quiet until morning; but do go as early
as you can. #
/ 'Od rabbit the varmint,'- said Deacon
Goodman, 'and cd rabbit the etarnal blasted
rum shop That was the neares. to swear
ing that the Deacon was ever known to
come.
'Put old Mag in the wagon, said he to
his son. Deacon, don't 90 to night said
Mrs. Goodman DO wait till morning, ,
said all his daughters. Let me 60, said
his son. Mind your own business, said
the Deacon 10 all OF them, Il shall 20 to-
night
When 1t came to that, they knew there
was no more 10 be said. He was dreadfully
set in his way He took bag and a bas-
ket, and went down cellar. lie filled the
bag with potatoes. He took piece Of pork
from one barrel and a piece Of beef from
another, and put them in the basket. lie
went to the closet, and took brown loaf and
a white one. He went TO the wood pile and
took an armiul Of wood, and told his son to
take another. All was put in the wagon
he not forgetting Sin candles and box Of
matches Deacon Goodman needed no sec
ondory motive to Christian duty; yet his
torical truth demands the confession, and the
I wife Of the poor drunkard was his first love
She Tilted him; or as we Yankees say, gave
him the mitten, in favor Of the abject wretch
who was now become her tyrant And this
was the way he fed fat the ancient grudge
he owed her! The truth is, Deacon Good
man knew nothing about grudges, ancient
or modern. The old Adam would occasion
ally flare up, but he always got him under
before sun-doga
All was ready, and in FIVE minutes the
Deacon was exposed to the peltings Of the
pitiless storm But what did he care fol
the storm; Il am going on Gods errand, !
said he to himself Il am going to visit the
worsethan widow and fatherless.' The next
thing that he said was, sOh, get OUT That
he meant for the promptings Of his own proud
heart
Misery, misery indeed did he find in that
most miserable dwelling. The poor wretch
himself was dead drunk on the floor. The
poor pale woman was sobbing her very cart
on. The children were clamorous and but
iew were the words Of their clamor. 4 am
cold am hungry'--and that was ALL The
Deaean brought in the wood, made up the
hF cd