Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1868-06-24

60 KNOW. duSNOISu tAAN
nd ,,r.,.-.. have nv doubts about
ne St ,.r ed as if she feared her speech
ID, mich, .. nd favor IN her sisters eyes.
&c 9A hat?' asked the elder sister
someva.- arply. Thee surely hasn't
OF anv doat-- ,out Eli Gardner? He is one
g. of the salt the earth
II No. & doubt Eli, but L doubt his
. power TO max Patience love him" replied
" the mother
= Now, Jan. thee don't mean to say
that thee intends to uphold Patience In any
Of her whims and notions exclaimed the
= elder sister, retukinely. 1t is thy duty
! as brand plucked from the burning, to
save thy child
The two women relapsed into silence
Phebe Morgan's words had given Jane vii
son food for thought, and she walked along
with a face profoundly meditative.
1t is the spirit Phebe Morgan said tc
herself Sister Jane will preach day
Into the little moeting-house straeeiec
Patience and Rebecca Wilson, after "a 81
lence like that of the grave had fallen OIL
the little assembly. say straggled, be-
oduse that was the term used by Pheoe
Morgan when, from the high seats that
overlooked the meeting she saw her nieces
come in. Patience was great trial to her
in those days. Even the way she entered
the Westinghouse offended her There
was loftiness about her carriage that vex-
ed her all the more because it was so nat
ural to Patience in those days. She did
not like the look in Patience's eyes either,
as they wandered about the simple low
ceiled Westinghouse, taking in the hard,
bare walls, the cold, white woodwork, the
uncarpeted floor, the meek women and
grave men: the look was full of undis-
guised disparagement. Then Patience
seated was no better She fdgeted in her
place, she pulled nervously at her gloves,
and tapped impatiently with her shoes
and was, to use her aunt's figure, as uneasy
as fish out Of water.
1t was a correct figure. \ fish out of
water-that was Patience Wilson sitting
in the little Westinghouse with her
thoughts away off to the little Gothic
church of St. Johns, where another band
Of Worshipers assembled. She had never
been there but twice, but she knew it all
by heart, as artists know picture not
often seen but studied carefully She was
picturing to herself now the altar with its
purple hangings, and the daintily frescoed
walls, the futed pillars, the windows of
red and green and blue and gold, the car
pcted aisles and cushioned pews At length
the nervous movements ceased, and Pa
tience Wilson sat calm and thoughtful
She had forgotten where she was, and in
imagination the mellow light from the
stained windows fell upon her, and she was
a worshiper at St. Johns. The organ
pealed forth its glorious notes of harmony,
and Patience Wilson, as twice before,
bowed her head with its burden of praise,
and wept to hear the loud ption-Glori
Til Domino! She was not forgetful of
him who sat before the organ, and woke
the slumbering music from its pipes and
keys. John Duane, organist, was the
speciality at St. J Johns IN whom Rebecoa
Wilson had SAID shrewdly that Patience
believed There was another at ST. Johns
whom She did not forget-Katie Hunter,
with the rosebud sprinkled dress, the lace
and gold and garnets, the bright ribbons
and scarlet flowers Katie Hunter sang
alto to John Duane's playing, and Patience
Wilson did not like her. Suddenly Pa
IlClltc w lISOI CdIlC OUl VI liCI ltNcIIt
with guilty start
A brand plucked from the burning
were the words that fell on her ears from
lips that had cooed lovingly over her in
infancy, and blessed her all her life. Eve
rybody listened attentively, for Jane Will
son was preaching, and she was one Of the
few faithful ones in her Society; a woman
who in her Madonna face wore the orna-
ment of meek and quiet spirit-a woman
who chung tenaciously to the faith delivered
to her fathers, and was in all things a pill
lar and ornament to her sect.
y brand plucked from the burning >
You guessed from the fervor of the woman's
manner, and from an insight into character
that is derived alone from experience, that
this woman was speaking from experiment
tai knowledge. You guessed intutively
that the woman's calm had come after a
great storm, that the spiritual height ON
which she stood had been attained after
temporal rough places you guessed almost
that this woman had been herself a brand
plucked from the burning.
The spiritualized face often sought her
daughters and then you saw how much
alike they were. You can easily fancy
that the Madonna face had looked like
Patience Wilson's once. Would Patience
Wilson's ever attain the holy calm Of the
other? Phebe Morgan had hope. She
remembered when Jane her younger sister,
had been a great trial to her, when her
heart was all unsettled and there was
rebellion in her life. Contrasting that
time with tiIi, whom tho woman spoke to
the edificaton all, she had hope for fa-
tience. Indeed, with their experience,
could they not save Patience from the
rocks on which her mothers happiness had
well-nigh wrecked ? They must make the
effort at all events. Unconsciously her
eyes wandered over to the mems side,
where sat Eli Gardner, brown-faced, hard
handed, honest. and Friend. He was
/ listening to Jane Wilson, but his eyes
wandered ever and anon to Jane Wilson's
daughter and on him Phebe Morgan re-
/ lied for assistance. Eli Gardners mother,
too, must play her part.
.Dorcas, | want thee to 90 home with
me to dinner said Phebe Morgan to the
severely plain woman who stood at Eli
Gardner's side when the Misunderstanding had
dismissed the meeting.
The woman looked doubtfully at Eli
Gardner.
To be sure thee will 60, said that
young man, heartily. [ will drive down
for thee this afternoon and now [ want
thee, friend Morgan, and all of these young
people, to bundle in my carry-all, and l
will take them home Come, girlsn
Patience Wilson drew back as she said,
Thank thee, but L had sooner walk
Nonsense y exclaimed Eli Gardner.
Save thy strength until thee needs ii
more Besides, there is nobody to sit with