Weekly Chillicothe crisis. (Chillicothe, Livingston Co., Mo.) 1878-19??, 1879-10-16
JH,sreHann
THE MINISTER'S MISTAKE.


The sunset was painting all the forest
path with gold; the messy boles of the
old trees glowed in the level light, as if
they had been carved out of gllttering
bronze, and the scarlet vines along the
stone wall caught new splcndor from the
last rays, while the silvery-white fringe of
the wild clematis swung from the dead
thom.bushcs, and here and there bird,
pcrched high up against the deep, vivid
blue of the heavens, uttered its shrill,
clear vesper note; and Mr.. Caryl, walk
ing home through the Westbrook woods,
thought what Il beautiful world this was
that God had made.
Mr.. Caryl was only four and twenty,
and had been in the Wcstbrook parish for
three months. Not long, but longenough
to discern, by the testimony OF his own
experience, that there were thorns as well
us roses in q country pastors life.
1t had seemed so beautiful and ideal,
when he looked at it through tine medium
of his fancy, standing on the threshold Of
the Theological Seminary. 1t was beauti-
full still; but the idea.ity had all gone out
of 1t.
His mother met him on the doorstep of
the parsonaGe-a brisk, spectacled little
dame, in Il turned black silk, with frills
Of ncatly.darncd lace, and violet ribbons
in her cap.
"Well, Charles" she said, chccrily,
"here's whole slatcful of calls for you.
Mr.. Caryl's cOuntenancc rather fell.
He had been anticipating an evening by
the wood-firc, with the last number Of
BIdckWOOdS MdgG$ine.
"CallsW he repeated. What are
they! and where re thcyH'
He went into the little parlor as he
spoke-the parlor where the coveted wood.
fire was lcapng and flashing on the bright
and-rons, and u shaded lamp was already
burned on the table among his piled-up
books and papers-and took up the little
slate.
"lhe Widow Corsett," he read; add
inV, soto rOco: THAT woman again!
She has died once a week, regularly, ever
since hayc been in Westbrook." i"
"Charles!" mildly reproved his mother.
"It's fact" asserted the young cler-
gyman. 81 don't think people ought to
confound hypochondria and religion in
this blindfOld sort of way. She'd deal
better send for the doctor and leave off
scolding tina: wretched adopted daughter
of hers. won't go-that's settled.
What next? Meet Deacon Daley and
old Captain Hartwick at Fowlcrsville
Four Corners at half.past 8 tomorrow
Now | wonder why people cant agree
about their own boundary lines without
calling in the clergyman Of the parish as
umpire between them"
"Dissention is such dreadful thing
among your flock, Charles" said his
mother.
$50 is scarlet fever, or smallpox" " said
Mr.. Caryl, rather curtly; "but all the
same don't see how | can be held re-
sponsible for either the one or the other.
Lend the manuscript of your last sermon
to old Miss Dadd to read. But | haven't
any manuscript to read-only half dozen
memoranda. ! preached entirely extern
pore, last Sunday"
Couldn't you just write it off from
memory2" said Mrs. Caryl, piteously.
"The poor old lady seems so anxious. She
said the sermon impressed her so deep.
ly." .
"Really, mother, think that's little
unreasonable" said the pastor. Sup
pose every old lady in the parish were to
require me to write out IL twelvc-page
sermon for her special benefit! Give
Miss Hits list of hymns for next Sun
day. Yes, III do that-as well now as
any time. Speak to Mrs. Prunc's Sarah.
Mrs. Prune's Sarahp WHO'S Mrs. Prune's
Sarah. And what am to speak to her
about, I'd like to know2" demanded this
young Clergyman in sort OF mild des-
peration.
Don't you know2" explained Mrs.
Caryl. "lt's Mrs. Prune that lives down
by the steam saw.mill in the big white
house with the poplar trees in front of it,
And its her stepdaughter, that's come
home from the third situation, all on ac-
count of the ribbons in her hat, and her
pride in her own pretty face" .
"And | am to speak to her, ehP" said
the young pastor.
eyes; you are to speak to her, said his
mother.
~ shall do nothing of the svrt," declar-
ed Mr.. Caryl, with some emphasis.
"But you must, Charles!" pleaded the
old lady. ats in the line Of your regu-
lar duty"
"Mr. Caryl hesitated, and wrinkled his
brow in sore perplexity.
"Do you think SOP" said he.
''I'm sure of i'll" declared the old lady.
Conscientiousness was one Of the strong
points Of Mr.. Caryls character. He took
up his hat.
"If it's got to be DONE" said he des-
perately, "the sooner the better!"
"But you'll stop for your tea first,
CharlesP" urged Mrs. Caryl. "Hot corn
bread and strawberry jam"
"I'll stop for nothing!" said Mr.. Caryl.
"Don't fret, little.mother; it won't take
me long to speak to Sarah"
And he disappeared with laugh.
As il happened, he never before had
been called upon to practice this particu-
lar branch of his profession, pleading with
the rebellious lambs of his flock who
thought more of their bright eyes than
they did of their hymn books; and he
turned the matter over in his mind as he
walked along the frosty woodland path,
where tho young moon cast ftful,
evanescent light, and the dead leaves