Iowa voter. [volume] (Knoxville, Iowa) 1867-1874, 1874-02-05
THE MINISTER'S DAUGHTER.
By EDNA DEAN PROCTOR.


The Rev. Reuben Hyde was graduate
of both Amherst and Andover. His pa
rents. who had made great sacrifices to
give him such advantages, looked for
ward to his becoming a shining light in
the church, and even had hoped that the
first pulpits OF Boston would be open TO
him when he left the seminary. But,
alas for the vanity Of human expecta-
tons, his sermons were only dry state
ments of the views of Edwards and
Stuart; and after preaching as "candi.
date" in several large towns, only TO be
rejected, disappointed and done with am.
bition, he drifted into the small, remote
parish of Marston, where kindliness and
frequent pastoral visits were more highly
priced than powerful >d.scourses. His
slender salary was eked out by the pro.
auctions Of tie garden and field belong
ing to the parsonage, the filling OF which
occupied his leisure hours, and having,
through his failures, q dislike for the
great world, he rarely left home, except
now and then TO exchange" with some
brother minister as unknown and unex'
pectant as himself
Mrs Hyde was an amiable, industrious
woman, never absent from the prayer
in her thrifty household cares. Their
children were Bessie, grave, patient,
gentle girl of ten, with round, innocent
face, brown cucls, and an appealing look
in. her blue eyes that went straight TO
your heart; and Baby viii, a vehement
little fellow, Just entering his second year,
and who went far to prove the theory of
some Scottish philosopher, that children
inherit the dormant rather than the active
faculties of father and mother.
Such was the Hyde family when, at
nine years old, went To Marston to spend
the summer with my aunt, who was their
nextdoor neighbor; and this was tse way
Bessie and became acquainted.
had been three days at my aunt's, and
had gone through and through the
rooms, and explored the garnet, and exam
ined over and over again the few picture
books among the old volumes ON the
hanging shelves. had found every nook
of the garden, and counted and fed the
chickens, and seen the cows MIXED, and
frolicked with the two gray kittens, until
the cat, alarmed at our familiarity, had car
ried them of TO their inaccessible nest In
the barn: and | was beginning to be
weary Of the stiffness, broken only by the
ticking of the tall clock in the corner, and
thinking rather sadly Of Ned and Fanny
at home, when my aunt looked up from
her work and said:
"You feel lonesome, don't you, Marys
Put on your bonnet and go out and play
with Bessie Hyde. There she Is, draw
ing her little brother up and down the
path"
Charmed with the prospect Of company
and yet little afraid of strangers, | acted
upon her suggestion, and going cautious.
ly TO the foot of the garden, looked
through the palings at Bessie. There she
stood, in her dark gingham gown and
Shaker bonnet, her brown curls clustering
i'm her neck and her cheeks flushed with
her efforts to please Master Win, who sat
as erect and proud In his clumsy wagon
as IL he had been heir to all the Russias.
She saw me, and now and then looked
timidly toward me; and know not how
long we should thus have regarded each
other had not a great orange spotted but
terfy come futtering over the walk
and aligbted on current bush just be-
side the wagon. The baby shouted with
delight, and held out his hands to catch
the dazzling rover; when away 1t flew
above my head and disappeared in the
near orchard The child set up scream
of vexation that might have been heard
through the village, and scorned all his
sisters attempts TO console him. A
device occurred to me. The minister's
garden hal only few pale flowers; but
my aunt's was gay with various blooms.
ran to the beds and plucked q nosegay
Of the brightest roses, columbines, scarlet
geraniums, and hurrying through the gate
and along the path, laid them down be-
fore the riotous boy. He looked up,
laughed In spite Of his tears, and then,
gathering them in confused heap In his
arms, and doubtless thinking them SO
many captured wings, he was soon the
image of content.
"Thank you!" said Bessie, from under
her bonnet
"How loud he did scream" said l.
"Twas the butterfly made him." an
swered Bessie. And from that moment
we were friends.
The next Monday morning went with
Bessie to the village school, and found 1t
20 attractive that continued to accompa-
ny her al The summer. The Marston
children were rather rough In their ways ;
but we had rare fun during the noon re-
cess, and there was really only one schol.
ar Of whom we were afraid Tom Stevens,
3 rude, mischievous boy, from the tavern
at the end of the street, who delighted In
tnrmenting all weaker and younger than
himself. He knew Bessie was In mortal
terror OF him, and so be was always teas
ing her; but when John Farley found out
ANYTHING. Tom was sure to get his deserts.
John Farley was the Deacons son, . tall,
handsome. athletic boy Of thirteen, full OF
mirth and daring and generosity. Since
the landing of the MAY flower" there
could not have been found man mn,c
rigid and exacting In family discipline