The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1883-02-22
A Little Member.
BY ROSE TERRY COOK.

A Little Member.
By ROSE TERRY COOK.
Its real lively place to live in, if It's
kinder noisy" said Miss Huldah Parks
to her next neighbor at the Drayton sew
ing circle for Mrs. Parker had been ask
ing how she liked her new house, a mite
OF wooden one story tcottage' as she
liked to call it, really the frame of small
barn, altered into house, having two
rooms on the first floor and one bedroom
under the roof, tOlerahy comfortable.
1t was better for Miss IIuIdah than the
rooms she had rented in a block, for she
had nobody to quarrel with about whose
turn it was to clean the common STAIR
or whose eat tipped over her milk pitch
er, or whose baby cried all night and
kept her awake; still, the house had its
disadvantages; it stood very near the
railway station, and the rattle and roar
Of trains, the shrek Of locomotives, the
hiss OF escaping steam, would nave made
some people nervous, but Miss iluldah's
nerves were steady; she did not mind
such noise: she would not have minded
the crying babies if she could have slap
ped them. 1t was not that they really
kept her awake, she only heard them
when she was awake, and resented a dis
tuIbance that intertered with her right
to sleep if she wanted to sleep. She was
a woman whose chief trait was deyour-
ing curiosity, which no limit Of delicacy
or propliety could restrain; she had some
imagination, enough to make her Suspi-
cl0us, but not enough for sympathy. And
she prided herself on saving just what
she liked, with the apology, if any one
seemed to be hurt by her speech, "Law
YOU no need to mind me. I'm blunt, but
I'm honest-spoken y which was much as
if a man should apologize for being a
murderer by saying he owned pistol.
one thing made Miss Huldah's new
home very agreeable To her: her front
room, in which she sat whenever the cold
weather did not drive her into her kitch-
Ell, looked out on the station, and she
saw everybody who came TO the trains or
went from them she knew all the Dray
ton people. for 1t was a small country
town, lying in the lap of the hills, long
isolated by heavy roads and distance
even from the county town, and its peo-
pie were all old inhabitants so when the
railway was built through it, it was used
at once to visit all the neighboring vii
lagos on the line, and to ride its length
was to be at a long tea-party without
the supper. People who had not met
for years encountered now in the cars,
and recounted to each other audihly and
eagerly all the family and friendly news
so long bottled up; whom John married,
and how Sally had twins, and Grandsir
D0Wd was dead, and Mariette's mother
had shOck-a num- palsy Tuesday was
a week, and Deacon Hills people were
goin' to move to Nebrasky Monday, and
50 on Therefore, when Miss Huldah
'viewed the landscape Ger" like Moses
in the hymn book, she knew, or thought
she knew, the why and wherefore of
every departure and arrival, and bazon-
ed abroad her news to the next crony
who happened in.
Now at the time our story commences,
d new clergyman in the church at Dray-
ton was stirring the hearts and tongues
OF the village nightly; he was hand
some, manly, young fellow, just out Of
the seminary and full of zeal and energy,
but very Shy socially; though eloquent
as could be desired in the pulpit, fluent
with one or two friends before the fire or
wandering in the woods, yet tongue-tied
and awkward at tea party or a ''sOcial
evening" that awful formality of the ru-
raj districts, where people stand about
like pins on a cushion and glare at each
other IN silence that can be felt where
the young people sit on the stairs and
whisper, and the old people speak sol
EMMY of the weather, the crops and the
state of religion.
The Rev. John Manton was a real
blessing to Drayton, in that he gave them
Il theme for conversation he ran the
gauntlet that young ministers always do
with the disadvantage of being unmar-
red and not even engaged. He came
also into the pulpit of an old divine of the
Oldest school, and he was young and of
the newest school; of course he was talk
ed about. Deacon Mills said he did not
preach DEGREES enough, and Squire Pc
ters wanted more doctrnal sermons.
Elam Barton disapproved of short prayers
and the choir OF old-fashioned hymns, and
Joel Barton wished he would say more
about hell, instead of SO much about
works proving your faith and the good
ness OF God leading people to repentance.
Nobody considered that like all the rest
OF us he looked into the Bible with such
insight as his character gave him, and
| preached to his people, with fearless hon
eSty, whatever seemed to him the most
needed truth. He was worried and
| troubled at first by this fire of criticism
and fault-finding, but being brave and
sensible resolved tC do his duty and take
the consequences; but he could not so es-
cape from another evil he found natural
ly, pleasure in youthful society, and
there were several families of Young peo-
| pie in his flock; but as soon as he began
to visit them, they all, with one accord,
began to suspect him of matrimonial in
tentions, to blush and giggle and smirk
when they met him, and to tease each
other about him openly. Fathers and
mothers withdrew from the parlor and
left him alone, when he called, with the
girls. lie was overstOcked with slippers,
Watch-ca Ses, lunches of flowers and baS
| kets of fruit his advice asked on every
trivialty, and his presence required at
every social gathering, till modest as he
was he could not help seeing the motives
of all this devotion: and not being in the
least attracted by the young women of
the village, who had neither the cultiva-
ton nor the education of those he had as
sociated with at home and during his
college course, he saw that his safety lay
in avoidance.
SO he left off visits of this sort rather
abruptly, but so made the proverbial leap
from the pan to the fire, for old and
young both resented this disappointment
of their hopes, this waste of flowers and
feelings alike, and turned upon him with
bitterness and incivility; even those who
had but so short a time since professed
to be his warm friends. In this condi-
ton of things, driven from the society
| l,;t |, l. n,