Northern tribune. [volume] (Cheboygan, Mich.) 1875-1885, 1880-08-14
THE MINISTERS MISTAKE.

Inc SuUSeG was pdlutluS oil o'hO .OASSS
paths with gold; the messy bo!ss OF the
old trees glOwed in the level light, as II
they had been carved out OF glltterlng
bro1z. and the scarlet vines along. the
stone wall caught new splendOr from
the last rays, while the silvery-whlte
fringe of wild clematis swung from the
dead thorn bushes, and here and. there
bird, perched high up against the deep, |
vivid blue heavens, uttered Its shrlll, |
clear yesper note; and Mr.. Caryl. walk |
ing homo through the WestbrOOk WOODS,
thought what beautiful world this was
that God had made.
Mr.. Caryl was only "a, and had been
in the WestbrOOk parish for three months.
Not long, but long enough to discern, Dy
experience that there were thOrns as we'll
as roses i'm country pastors life. IL
had seemed so beautiful and ideal when
he looked at it through the medium OF
his fancy, standing on the threshold OF
the theological seminary. 1t was beau
tiful still: but the ideahty had all gone
out of it,
His mother met him on the doorstep
of the parsonage-a brisk, specialized
little dame, in a turned black silk, with
frills of neatly-darned lace, and violet
ribbons in her cap.
"Well, Charles" she. said, cheerlly,
"bere's whole slateful of calls for YOU.
Mr.. Caryps cOuntenance rather fell.
He hadAeen anticipating an evening
by the VOID fire, with the last number
of BlackwSod's Magazine.
"GallsT he repeated; what are they'
and where are theyr"
He went into the little parlOr as he
spOk&-the parlOr where the coveted
wOOdfire was leaping and flashing on
the hight andirOns, and shaded lamp
was already burning on the table among
his piled-bOOks and paperS-and TOOK up
the little slate.
"The Widow COrsett," he read, adding,
soto voce, shat woman again! She has
died once week regularly ever since
have been in WestbrOOk."
"Charlesp mildly reprOved his mother.
ats fact" asserted the young cler-
pyman. Il don't think people ought to
c0nfound hypOch0ndria and religion In
that blindfOld sort of way. Shed a
deal better send for the doctor, and
leave off scolding that wretched adopted
daughter of hers. IwOn't gO-thats set
tied! What! Nett Deacon Daley and
old Can't. Hartwick at FOwlersvillle -Four
at $50 o'clock tomorrow Now won
der why people can't agree about their
own boundary lines without calling In
the clergymen of the parish as umpire
between them"
.Dissension is such dreadful thing
among your flock, Charles" said his
mother. :,
$50 is scarlet fever or smallpox" sait
Mr.. CaryI, rather CURLY; but, all th'
same, don't see how l can be held re
spOnsible for either one or the other
Lend the manuscript to read-0nly nal
dozen memoranda. preached entlre
ly extempOre last Sunday"
Couldn't you write it of from memo
rv?" said Mrs. Caryl, piteOusly. 9TH
moor old lady seems so anxious. Sh
said the sermon impressed her so deeply.
"Really. mother, think that's littl
unreasonable" said the pastor. Sup
nose every old lady in the parish were
reguire me to write out a twelve-pag
sermon for her special benefit! Civ
Miss Hits list of hymns for next Sun
day., Yes I'll do that-as well now a
any tin e. Speak to Mrs. Prune
Sarah? Who is Mrs. Prune's Sarah
And what am to speak to her abOu
I'd like TO know demanded the yOun
clergyman, in sort of mild despers
aDon't you know" explained Mr.
Caryl. sIt's Mrs. Prune that lives dow
bv the saw-mill, in the big white nous
with the poplar trees in front OF it. An
it's her step-daughter that's come HON
from the third situation, and all on a.
count of her ribbons in her hat, and he
pride in her own pretty face"
.,"And Pm to speak to her, oh?" sal
the young pastor.
"Yes; you are to speak to her" said h
mother.
clared Mr.. Caryl, with some emphasis:
"But you must, CharlesH' pleaded Il
old lady. "It's in the line of your reg
Mr.. Caryl hesitated, and wrinkled h
brow in sore perplexity.
"Do you think SOP" said he.
"Pm sure of it," declared the Old lac
ConscientiOusness was one OF I
strong points of Mr.. CaryPs charact
He took up his hat.
IF it's got to be DONE" said he, desp'
ately. "the sooner the better"
"But you will stop for your tea fir
CharIesY' urged Mrs. Caryl. Hot co
bread and strawberry JAM"
sTIl stop for nOthingp said Mr.. Car
sDOn't fret, little mother; it won't ia
me long to speak to Sarah.
And he disappeared with laugh.
As,it happened, he never before 4
been called upon to practice this p
ticnlar branch of his profession, pie
ing with the rebelli0us lambs OF
flock who thought more of their 6rlt
ewes than thew did of their hymn boo
and he turned the matter over IN
mind as he walked along the fro
woodland path, where the young MI
cast fitful, evanescent light, ana
dead leaves sent up faint OdOr bene
his feet.
Speak to Sarah" he muttered to HI
self, not without certain perception
the ridiculous side of the matter. 81
what am to say to her, wonder?"
He knocked softly at the big fir
door Of the Prune mansion. A shuffii
untidy, girl of IA or Is opened it, hid
behing q shawl and fringe Of curl
pers.
sIs Mrs. Prune at homer" said he.
mo. she amt" retOrted the girl.
Mr.. Caryl paused. He scarcely XII
what question to ask next.
as Sarah at homer" he deman
after little.
Miss Sarah?"
swell. suppose it can hardly be
Sarah" said the young clergyman,
smilingly. Yes, Miss Sarah, of cOul
"She's at home," said the girl, un
ciOusly 0penening the door a L
wider. Game this afternoon. Sci
in the parlor. Walk in"