Helena weekly herald. [volume] (Helena, Mont.) 1867-1900, 1889-07-18
Farmer Brown From JenkinstOwn.

Ses I to wife (for wife an me goes ham ir
han'),
ses' I, III tell ye what, I've got plan
I've been a-thinkin' on for quite a time!
To-morrer, eff it hols # fair an fine,
I'll go into the city with load
The haulin's easy on a level road
I'll sell it out and put up for the night,
An in the mornin' I'll frerh me up all clean an
bright
From them as truly knows the meanin' Of the
I'll do it, sure as am Farmer Brown,
An livin' here in JenkiDstownl
so Sunday KEN an went alone,
Through miles Of streets on walks OF stone,
TIL the meet1n house at last was found,
And stopt jes still and lookt aroun'!
It almos' took my breath to see
That towerin' church, an it seemed to me
As ef the doors, what was swingin' wide,
Was beckonin' all the world inside.
An slept soft like, and kinder slow,
For ses' |, | feel to know,
This Is of ali a holy place.
An the air of it is the air of grace;
An / walkt STRAIT in an strait ahed,
For ment to hear all the preacher sed;
An sot rg hit down in a cushioned pew,
Close up fn front, with a ra' al good view!
1.-THE light KEN through painted pane.
An 1t lit the place like holy flame.
| sat an tho't OF the burnin' bush,
An my heart beat loud In the still an hush,
Till the organ spoke so soft an low,
Like the pleadin' tones of child, you know
Al then the soun's grew loud an clear,
As ef the Lord himself was near!
Seems like hearn His voice in the organs roll,
Seems like felt His strength lift up his soul
"Jes then a lady KEN, with chill, white face,
picter of ice in a frame OF lace!
She stopt an she lookt, an moved along,
But still she stood, like suthin' was wrong
She looked so cold that she froze me through,
An didn't know what orter do;
So ses' /: Kin help ye, ma'am? I'm Farmer
Brown,
An live to home in Jenkinstown!
Then man KEN up, an he ses, ses he:
III fin you a seat KEN along with mel!
~ follered him down the long, long lie,
An the ks all comm in the while
j felt so strange an stiff, an queer,
/ couldn't see, an l couldn't hear,
An when we got to the backmos' seat Of all,
My knees they shook like would fall,
But the slick young man with the bright breast
pin
He ses to me: Pass in pass inr
~ sot rite down, but my heart was sore,
An rose in my throat like an apple-core.
The preacher got down, an he prayed prayer,
But my mind 1t couldn't follow him rair.
l tho't of the stranger" before the gates,
Ses / to myself, I'm him that waits.
An faint the scars nor the stains OF sin,
'Tis jes' my clothes won't let me in!
AN all of a suddint, the glory and grace
Was lost Ia the dark an the gloom of the place
The soul of the sermon seemed starvin' an
couldn't make out what the preacher did
thot of the Master, with sandaled feet
wondered if He should chance to meet
The lady fair with the chill, white face,
In the house of God, In His holy place,
If she'd look at Him she looked at me;
IL she'd curl her lip as haughtily
II wondered, too, if the slick young man,
With his spine as stiff a battering ram,
Would lead Christ back, eau SO His robe was
An wasn't expressed from fashion source!
II took my hat an still as any mouse,
i slid right down them stairs, an left the house
In my old soul there was sigh and not a song,
An sech puzzlin' as slowly walkt along!
All to wunst, 1t was eff spoke directly with
the Lord.
It was as eff heard the Spirit of the Word,
An plain as ennything, it sed to me:
- BE still, my son, an lis'en patiently!
My church can not be built of earthly wood or
stone,
My temple true is reared within the heart
alone!
Now seek no longer for the outer sign.
But feed thy soul from inner founts divnel
Nor wander father Farmet Brown,
III bid by thee in Jenkinstown y"
ELLA DARE, in Chicago Inter-Ocean.