Eastern times. [volume] (Bath, Me.) 1846-1857, 1851-10-02
s ELECT TALE.
THE OLD DEACON.

BY ANN S. STEPHENS.

She loved not wisely, but too WE'LL
II was balmy pleasant Sabbath morning ;
so green and tranquil was our valley home, that
days. The dew was floating in veil of soft
mist from the meadows on School Hill, where
the sunshine came warmly, while the wild
flowers in the valley lay in shadow, still heavy
with the night rain. The trees which feath-
cred the hill-sdes, were wildly green, and
Castle Rock towered-a magnificent picture
its base washed by the water, and darkened BY
unbroken shadow, while soft feecy cloud
woven and impregnated with silvery light,
fioated among the topmost cliffs. The two
villages lay upon their opposite hills, with the
deep river gliding between, like miniature cit
les, deserted by the Seet of men not sound
arose to disturb the sweet music of nature, for
it was the hour of morning prayer, and there
was scarcely hearthstone which at that time
was not made domestic altar At last deep
bell-tone came sweeping over the valley from
the Episcopal steeple, and was answered by a
cheerful peal from the belfrey of our new acad-
emy. The reverberations were still sound
ing, mellowed by the distant rocks, when
the hitherto silent village seemed suddenly
teeming with life. The dwelling houses were
flung open, and the inhabitants came forth in
smiling family groups, prepared for worship
Gradually they divided into separate parties,-
The Presbyterians walked sowlytowards their
huge old meeting house, and the more gaily
dressed Episcopalians seeking their more fash
ionable house of worship. 1t was pleasant
sight-these people, simple in their habits,
yet stern, if not bgoted sectarians gathering
together at so good time and for so good a
purpose. Old people were out-grandfathers
and grandmothers, with the blossom of the
grave on their aged temples. Children, with
their rosy cheeks and sunny eyes, rendered
more ROSY and more bright with pride of their
white frocks, pretty straw bonnets, and pink
wreaths. 1t was pleasant sight TO see the
little men and women striving in vain to sub
due their bounding steps, and school their
sparkling faces to solemnity beftting the oc-
casion. There might be seen newly married
pair walking bashfully apart, not daring to ven
ture on the unprecedented boldness of linking
arms in public, yet feeling very awkward, and
almost envying another couple who led little
roguish girl between them. Shea mischiev-
Gus little thng-al the time exertng her baby
strength 10 wiring that chubby hand from her
mothers grasp-pouting her cherry lips when
either of her scandalized parents checked her
bounding step too noisy prattle, and, at last.
subdued only by intense admiration of her red
morocco shoes, as they flashed in and out, like
a brace of wood lilies, beneath her spotted mus
lin dress.
Apart from the rest, and, perhaps lingering
along the greensward which grew rich and
thick on either side of the highway, another
group, perchance, was gathered. Young girls,
schoolmates and friends, with their heads bend
ing together, and smiles dimpling their fresh
lips, all, doubtless, conversing about sacred
themes beftting the day.
Such was the aspect of our village on the
Sabbath, when the subject of this little sketch
takes us to the old Presbyterian meeting house
on School Hill. sombre, ancient pile, already
familiar to those of our readers who have read
the g Home Sketches
Our academy bell had not ceased ringing
when the congregation came slowly in through
The different doors of the meeting house, and
arranged themselves at will in the square pews
which crowded the body. The minister had
not yet arrived, circumstance which occurred
to some of the congregation as somewhat sin
gular. Twenty years he had been their pas
tor, and during that time, had never once kept
his congregation waiting. At length he ap-
peared, at the southern entrance, and walked
up the aisle, followed by his grey-headed old
deacon. The minister paused at the foot of
the pulpit stairs, and with look of deep and
respectful reverence, held the door of the
'Deacon's Seat" while the old man passed
in. The little attention went to the deacon s
heart; he raised his heavy eyes to the pastor
with a meek and heart-touching look of graft
tude, that softened many who looked upon ii,
even TO tears The minister turned away and
went up stairs, not in his usual sedate manner,
but hurriedly, and with unsteady footsteps
When he arrived in the pulpit, those who sat
in the gallery saw him fall upon his knees,
bury his face in his hands, and pray earnestly,
and, it might be, weep, for when he arose his
eyes were dim and flushed.
4 Directly after the entrance of the minister
and deacon, came two females, one tall, spare
woman, with thin features very pale, and be-
speaking continued but meekly endured suffer
ing. There was beautiful and Quaker-like
simplicity in the book-musln kerchief folded
over the bosom of her black silk dress, with
the corners drawn under the riband strings in
front, and pinned smoothly to the dress behind.
Her, grey hair was parted neatly under the
black straw bonnet, and those who knew her,
remarked that it had gained much of its silver
since she had last entered that door. In her
arms the matron bore rosy infant, robed in a
long white frock, and an embroidered cap. A
faint color broke into her salow cheek, for
though gh she, did not look up, it seemed TO her
as ifevery eye in the assembly was turned up
on her burden. They were all her neighbers,
many 6f them kind and truthful friends, who
had knelt- al the same communion table with
her for ryears., Yet she could not meet their
eyes, nor force that tinge Of shame from her
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