The Portland daily press., 1871-07-14
The Deacon's story

[From Appleton's JOURNAL
The solemd old bells in The steepie
Are ringin'. guess you know why!
Mop we'll then. III tel you, though mostly
It,s whispered about on the sly.
Some six months ago, church meetin'
" AZ called for-nobcdy knew what:
But we went, and the parson was present,
And don't know who, or what
Some twenty odd members, L ealc'iate.
Which mostly was wemen, OF course:
Though don't mean to say aueht ag,n 'em,
I've seen many gathern's worse
There, IN the front row sat the deacons,
The eldest was old Deacon Pryor;
A man countin' fourssore and seven
And gn'Ially iuIl Of his ire.
Beside him, his vie, countin' fourscore,
A kmd-heafted, motberly soul;
And, next to her. young Deacon Hartley,
good Christian man, on the whole.
Miss Parsons. spnster of fifty,
And long ago laid ON he shelf,
Had wedged herself next; and, beside her,
Was Deacon Munroe-that's myself
The meetin' was soon called TO order;
The parsOn looked gum as text;
We gszed at each other in silence.
And silently wondered "What next?
Then slowly upross Deacon Hartley;
His voice set med to tremble with fear,
As he said: "Boy and man you have known me,
My good friends tor nigh forty year.
.sAnd you scarce may expect confession
OF error from me; but-you know,
My dearly loved wife died last Christmas,
It's nov nearly ten months ago.
The winter went by long and lonely,
The spring hurried forward apace;
The farm-work anne on, and needed
A woman about the old place.
"Tbe children were wilder than rabbits,
And still growing worse every day;
No help to be found In the village,
Although was wiliin' to pay.
In tact was nigh bout discouraged,
For everything looked SO torlorn;
When good little Patience Nc Alpine
Skipped into our kitchen, one morn.
"She had only run in of an GRAND,
But she laughed at our miserable plight;
Aud set to work jist like woman,
A-putting the whole place to right.
Aud though her own folks was so busy,
And lily her helpin' could spare,
She fit in and out like sparrow,
And most every day she was there.
$50 the summer went away sort O. cheerful,
And one night my baby, my Joe,
Seemed feverish, and tretiui, and woke me,
BY crying at midnight, you know.
was tired with my days work, and sleepy, =
couldn't no way keep him still;
So at last grew angry, and spanked him.
And then he screamed out with will.
"Just then heard soft rappng,
Away at the half-0pen door;
Anu then little Patience McAlpine
walked snyly across the white floor.
Says she, i thought Josey was cryin'.
i guess I'd best take him away.
knew you'd be gettin' up early
To go TO the marshes for hay;
So stayed here tonight to get breakfast,
guess he'll be quiet with me-
Come Josie, kiss papa, and tell him
What nice little man you will be
She was STOPPING low over the pillow,
And saw the big tears on his cheek;
Her face was SO close to my whiskers,
darsn't move, scarcely, or speak;
Her hands were both holdin' the baby,
Her eye by bis shoulder was hid;
But her mouth was SO near, and 80 rosy,
kissed her. That's just what did,"
Then down sat the trembling snner,s
The sisters they murmured of SHAME
And '.she shouldn't oughter let him,
NO doubt she was mostly 10 blame"
When straghtway uprose Deacon Pryor,
NOW brethren and sisters" he said,
1--WE knowed then that suthin' was comm,
And all sot as still as the dead,
you've heard brother Hartey's confession
And speak Tor myself, when say,
That Ii my wife was dead and my children
Were all CROWN worse every day;
And II my house needed attention
And Patience McAlpine had come.
AND tided the cluitered-up kitchen,
And made the place seem more like home,
And i was worn-out and sleepy,
And my baby wouldn't lie still,
But fretted and woke me at midnight,
AS babies, we know, sometimes will;
And II Patience came in to hush him
And twas all as our good brother saws
think, friends-think should Kiss hsr'
And 'bde by the consequence
Then down sat the elderly deacon,
The younger one lifted his face
And smile rippled over the meetiu'
Like light in sh adowy place.
fernaps, then, the matI0nly sisters
Remembered their iar-away Youth
OF the daughters at home by their fire-siies.
Shriued each in her shy, modest truth;
For their Judgments grow gentle and kindly,
And---weli--as 1 started TO saw.
The solemn old bells in the steepis
Are ringn' bridal to-day.
N. S. EMERSON.