The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1885-02-15

~ sAO
Thirty eight years ago, early in the spring,
Rev. H.. W. Beecher bought of Calvin Fletcher
the west two-thirds of the block on the south
west corner of Ohio and New Jersey streets, for
$500, and proceeded at once to the cultivation of
a large garden, the plantingof choice fruit trees,
and the building of what was then counted a
large and commodious house, devoting a great
deal of time, not to experimenting merely, but
to digging and hoeing in the garden and to me-
chanical work on the house. He soon had not
only one of the largest, but one of the best as
well as one of the most ornate gardens in the
city, so profusely decorated with flowers as to
provoke criticism from more than one
on the lavish expenditure of time
By the middle of October the house was sufi-
GENTLY advanced to receive paint, and Mr..
Beecher took a hand in that work as he had all
along in the carpentering and the gardening.
About that time there was a very general re-
ligious interest in the several! churches in the
city, including the Second Church. Among the
Serious ones was a youth of some seventeen
summers, the boy of all work in Craighead's
drug store, at % West Washington street. At
the close of one of the meetings Mr.. Beecher
made an appointment to see him the next day,
on religious matters. Shortly after 8 o'clock
Mr.. Beecher alighted from his riga cheap
open buggy and a very gentle old horse-in front
Of the drug store, with a jug in each hand and
encased in a seedy suit, well daubed with
paint. Brother Craighead." said he, on
entering the door, Il want a gallon
of turpentine, two gallons of oil and three kegs of
white lead. There was an air of authoritative
ness and haste about the order that awakened
every employee in the store. sBrother Craig
head turned at once to the factotum and said:
Robert, take Mr. Beecher's jugs to the cellar
and fill them, and bring up three kegs of the best
lead" Robert seized the jugs and was about
starting, when Mr.. Beecher seized one, saying:
Young man, I'll go with you, and help YOU"
In a twinkling, Robert remembered the ap-
pointment of the preacher to meet him that day,
and converse on serious subjects, and a feeling of
awe cam over him as he thought of being alone
in the cellar with a preacher in a kind of private
inquisition or class-meeting, but he could
not decline, SO went along. He tackled the
turpentine jug first, and squatted down
by the turpentine barrel and turned the faucet.
The liquid began to run and so did Mr..
Beeeher's tongue. ''Turpentine! turpentine!"
began the preacher. 'That carries me back to
the days of my childhood. The governor mean
ing his fatherl always kept a jug of rum in the
cellar, and it was marked 'Turpentine.' But
that was a long time ago. There has been moth
ing of the kind there for more than twenty
years." and his tongue kept running on equally
serious subjects until the jugs were filled, and
@al,pr ooo ~ aonh honI Ia coo- 10.Iol AIo.o 80
the sidewalk at the head of the cellar steps,
leaving Robert to bring mp the lead.
"By George! Itlacks only a quarter of 10 by
that clock" pointing across the street to Fur
geson's regulator" so we'll remembered by the
old residents of the city. 81 have to
attend e funeral at 10-I had for.
gotten it-just let those paints and
jugs remain here until that job is attended to-"
and he jumped into his buggy and turned up
Washington street, making unusually good time.
Washington street had not been powdered then,
and there were no street railways to obstruct the
free p-assage-nothing but the endless string of
emigrant wagons going westward. Mr. Beecher
turned up New Jersey and then eastward down
the alley, which brought him to a one-storied
frame OF three rooms and shed kitchen, standing
about the middle of the lot just west Of where
the Hebrew Synagogue now is. In less than
FIVE minutes he was in his buggy again, and off
at double quick for the 'job"-the funeral,
dres sed in Sunday clothes. About noon he drove
leisurely out Kentucky avenue to Craighead's
store and asked for his paints and oils.
Robert handed them into the buggy,
and as the preacher was about to
start homeward he seemed to remember his
pastoral engagement. but he had no time now
for such work, hence he said: by the way,
young man. I believe | had an appointment to
converse with you to-day, but never mind, / will
call some other time" and drove off.
That new house stands yet, but it is counted
an old house now; and Robert still remains,
but he passes as old, too, a highly, esteemed
citizen, and a beloved elder in the church into
which he had so romantic an entrance thirty
eight years ago; and Mr.. Beecher yet lives. an
older and much better known man than then,
though in every respect much the same in his
general makeup.
The Churches To-Day.
Plymouth Church-Oscar c.. McCulloch, pas