Litchfield enquirer., 1850-02-28
NlSCEA l. A N ".
Old Father Morris.
BY MISS HARRIET nEEcHra srowE.

Ofall the marvels that astonished my childhood, there is none I remember to this day with so much interest as the character of old Father Morris. When 1 knew him he was an aged clergyman, settled over aa obscure village in New England He had enjoyed the advan- iagcs of a liberal education, had strong original power of thought, an omnipo- tent imagination, and much general in- formation but so early and so deeply had the habits and associations of the blow, the farm, and country ife, wrought themselves into his mind, that his after requirements could only mingle with them, forming an unexampled amal gam, like unto nothing but itself. @
 tic was an ingfain New Englander. and whatever might have been the source of his information, it came out in Yankee form, with the strong provinciali.y of Yankee dialect.
 It is in vain to attempt to give . full picture of such genuine unique; but some sli sht and imperfect dashes may help the imagination to faint idea of what none can fully conceive but those who have seen and heard old Father Morris.
 Suppose yourself one of half dozen child.en, and you hear the cry. '" Father Morris is coming!' You run to the window or door, and you see 8 tall, bulky old man, with pair of saddle bags on one ara,, hitching his old horse with q tfumbling carefulness. and then deliber. atcly stumping towards the house. You notice his tranquil fiorid, full-moon face, enlightened by pair of great. round blue eyes, that roll with dreamy inatten- tiyeness on. all the objects around, and as he takes of his hat you see the white curling wig that sets off his round head. He comes towards you, and as you stand staring with all the children around, he deliberately puts his great hand on your head. and with deep. rumbling voice. inquiries, How dye do. my dartcr ?- Is your daddy at home 2" My darter' l usually makes of as fast as possible in an unconquerable giggle. Father Nor ris goes into the house, and we watch him at every turn, as. with the most lib- eral simplicity, he makes himself Ut home, takes off his wig. wipes down his great face with checked pocket .handker- chief, helps himself hither and thitner to whatever he wants, and asks for such things as he cannot lay his hands on, with all the comfortable easiness of child hood.
 I remember to this day how we used to peep through the crack of the door, or hold it half ajar and peer in to watch hts motions; and how nightly diverted we were with his deep, slow manner of speaking, his heavy. unbrous walk, but, above all. with the wonderful facul- ] ty of hemming which he possessed. His deep. laundering. pnotracted l a-hem-em was like nothing else that ev- CT heard i; and when once, as he was in the midst of one of these performances the parlor door suddenly happened to swing open, 1 heard one of my roguisl brothers calling. in suppressed tone Charles! Chaalcs! Father Morris has hemmed the door openr' and then fol lowed the signs of a long and desperate litter, in nhich l sincerely sympathized But the morrow is Sunday. The old man rises in the pulpit- He is not now in his own humble little parish. preach ling simply to the hoers of corn and planters of potatoes. but there sits Gov. ernqr D,, and there is Judge R.. and counsellor F. and Judge e. In short he is before n refined md liierary audi encc. Bat Father Morris rises i; hc thinks nothing of this-he cares uothing-he knows nothing. hs hr himself would say, but .Jesus Christ and him srueifsd. %-- He takes e passage of Scripture to ex.