The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1879-11-19
81 The Minister'S Mistake.

..g0y The Minister'S Mistake.
The sunset was painting all the forest
& psthsswith)g gold the messy boles Of the
old trees glowed insthe Level light, as if
they had been carved out of glittering
bronze, and the scarlet vines along the
stone wall caught new splendor from
the last rays, while the silvery-white
fringe of the wild clematis swung from
the dead thorn-bushes, and here and
there q bird, jperched high up against
the deep, vivid blue of the heavens, ut
tered its shrill, clear, Yesper note; and
Mr. Caryi,C walking home through the
Westbrook woods, Thought what beau.
tiful world this was that God had made.
MI. Caryl was only four and twenty,
and had been iR the Westbrook parish
for three month";. Not long. but long
enough to discern, by the testimony of
his own, experience, - that there were
thorns as well as roses in q country pas
tors life. -...- $780,. .-,. Il
1t had seemed so beautiful AMI ideal
when he looked at it through the me-
dunn of his fancy, standing. on the
threshold iof the theological seminary.
1t WIS Beautiful still; but the Ideally
had all gone out of it. -
q His mother met him or the doorstep
of the 4parsonage-a brisk, specialized
little dame. in q turned black silk, with
irills OF neatly-darned lace, and violet
ribbons in her cap.
ar.WelB Charles" she said, cherily.
{ @'.here's awhole slateful ofcalls for you"
MIR. CaryIs countenance rather. fell.
He had been anticipating an evening by
the wood-6re, with the last number Of
g B!asSgood,s Magaz'ns; at,r,
they? and where are theyp" .... =
He went into the little parlor as he
spoke-the parlor where the coveted
wood-ire " IS leaping andfashing on the
bright andirons, and 0 shaded lamp was
already burning on the table among his
piled-up books and papers-and took up
the little slate. -
The Widow Corsett," he read. add
ing. soto roce: That woman. again
She has died once "a week, regularly,
ever since Ihave been in W estbrook."
Charles" mildly reproved his
mother.
Its a act" asserted the young
clergyman. q don't think people ought
ito confound hypocbondria and religion
ID ttis blindfoh sort OF way. Shed a
Edr.h better send for the doctor to leave
, of soothing that awretched adopted
daughter of hers. I won't go-that's
settled What next?. y.Meet Deacon
Daily and3old Captain Hartwick at Fow.
lersyille Four Corners at half past nine
o'clock tomorrow" Now l wonder
why people can't agree about their own
boundary lines without calling in the
"a Clergyman of the parishTas umpire be.
y tween them.m1 t2yLA LAEI&
"Dissensioa is such a dreadful thing
among your flock, Charles" said his
mother.
$50 is scarlet. fever. or small.pox,'
) &saidE Mr.. Caryl, rather CURLY; but all
4Sthe same Idon'tsee how I can be held
responsible for either the one or the
other LEND the manuscript of your
astssermon to old Miss Dadd to read.
ButIhaven't any manuscript to read
only half a dozen memoranda. Ipreached
entirely extempore. last Sunday"
,a,., Couldn't you Just write il off from
memory?" said Mrs. Caryl, ~piteously.
The poor old lady seems so anxious.
She said the sermon impressed her 50
"Really, mother, I think that's a little
unreasonable" said the pastor. ]" Sup.
spose every old lady in the parish wers
~&forequire me to writeou tWelve-page
, sermon for her especial benefit! Give
Miss Hits, q list Of hymns fornext Sun.
day Yes. I'll do that; as well now as
any time. Speak to Mrs. Prune's
Sarah Mrs. Prune's Sarah! Who il
Mrs. Prune's Sarah, and what am I te
- speak to her about, I'd like to know?'
demanded this young clergyman, in 6
sortrof mild desperation. = ..
II Don't you know?"! explained Mrs
'IeCaryl. "'tIt's Mrs. Prune that lives
.s down by the saw-mill, in the big white
+, house with the poplar trees in front o
It; and it's her s~tepdaughter, that's
some home from the third situation al
= ON account of the ribbons in her hat ant
= .Aher pride in her own pretty iace.n ..
And I am to speak to her, ehp" sale
y the young pastor =
- YES, you arc to speak to her" sale
his mother.
II shall, do not ing of the SOP! de
+, Sclared ME Garyl yith some emphasis
But you must Charlesm pleaded tn,
'oldy LADY. %"It in the line of you
regular duty"
Mr.. Caryl hesitated and wrinkled hi
II brow insore perpiexity. y w5~
. EcDoyouthin SOP, ssidehe. 3 =.
y sim sure oE itms declared the oil
lady.
Conscientiousness was one ofthe stron,
q speintsro Of Mr.. Caryl's character. He tool
up his hat IL glGyan e5'aI
"If it's got to be DONE" said he, des
rerateiy. the sooner the betterW
"But you will stop for your tea first
CharlesP" urged Mrs. Caryl. "Ho
corn bread and strawberry jam"
8Icsi5ylH: s sBoS fsF re- ssfh lIssia no ssia MI !
won't take me long to sneak to Sarah.
IL And be disappeared with a laugh.
~ As it happened, be never before bat
1oi ticular branch Of his profession, plead
therebellious lambs ofh;s focl
who thought more of their bright eye
80 than they'll of their hymn books, ant
he turned the matter over in his mine
ashe walked along tliefrosty WOODLAND
1er path, ~heeethey young mooncast q ftful
evsrescsnt light, and. the dead leaves
&S1 senknpa faint odor beneath This sfeet.
"Spcak to SaralL"y he muttered r.
, y hlr1ssn not without 2 certain percep
V"'And what am u to saw to her,
wondcr?" -,
Te knocked softly at the big front doc,
! 'ofthePfnne mansion. ygA shutting, un
tidy gfrlof fourteenior fifteen opened it
hiding behinda shawl and a fringe o
: curl papers. j.
"1s Mrs. Prune at homer" said he.
"No, she ain't,' retorted the girl.
MI. Caryl paused. He scarcely knew
what question to ask next.
els Sarah at home?" he demanded
after a little.
Miss Sarah?"
well ] suppose it "a hardly b
tZEAgAr