Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1890-08-13
OLD-FASHIONED SUNDAY.
The Sort of Experience That Made I'm
believers of Boys.
tIo &c

From the Rams Horn.
Sunday was all awful day at nome.
The mere recollection of it makes me
SILVER to this day, even in hot weather.
We got up as early Sunday morning as
we did other days, for somehow 1t
seemed to me there was always more to
do in the way of chores. [ could always
tell when Sunday came without an al
manac. | never had to consult the cal
ender to find out about that. 1t was
the dav on which [ had to be washed,
and every boy knows what that means
As soon as [ saw mother getting ready
to hang kettle of water on the crane
| knew the day had come on which |
was expected to be heavenly-minded.
/ was certainly miserabre sinner
every hour of that dreadful Sabbath.
At o'clock my father took my hand,
and two solemn people set out for Sun
day sch DOL. After Sabbath school,
which was a long, dismal hour, we
STAYED to hear a man preach who had
badly misunderstood the Lord. The
Lord had said $50 and split rails,
but the poor brother, whose hearing
wasn't just right, had understood him
to say, $50 preach - and SO he hoped
into the pulpit and went to pounding the
Bible. From that day on to the close of
his ministry he was faithful in one
thing at least. He never gave the dust
chance to accomplish its purpose with
the Bible. He had voice like the
roaring of many waters. and a fist big
enough to render a club unnecessary.
He would stand there in that old-fasb
toned box of a pulpit and roar and
pound, and pound and roar, and slam
4 l.
blood ran cold. He used to try to
preach about mercy, sometimes, in
bulldog kind of way; but he never
had any mercy on little boys, and talked
until their bones seemed about ready to
break and let their weary bodies fall on
the floor.
After the preacher had tired himself
and his congregation clear out, there
was change of the misery. Church
would be dismissed, and class meeting
would begin, and father and [ would
stay to that. People with long Sunday
faces would get up and talk about what
a "hard thing it was to serve God,' and
could say "Amen!" with every bone
and muscle in my tired body, though |
didn't do it out loud. The class-meet-
body seemed to be distressed almost to
death, and yet nearly all claimed to be
happy. | had never cried when | was
happy then, and their talk was all
Greek. There was always good deal
said about making crooked paths and
being unfaithful, and / thought the
Lord had hard time in finding any
body he could depend on in that part
of the country, but from my own i'm
pressions concerning Him didn't much
wonder at it.
When this dreary class-me Getting final
ly ended, [ took fathers hand again
and went home in cold sweat, wonder
ing where | came from and what was
going to finally become of me. [ used
to ask my father all kinds of puzzling
questions about religious matters, but
his way of getting out of a corner when
[ hedged him in was to say that there
were a good many things a boy could
not understand. At home we would get
a cold bite, and then stay in the house
and keep still and look solemn until 3
o'clock, when we would set out again
for another class-meeting.
The leader of the afternoon class
meeting was lame in one leg. He had
been crippled SO that his right leg was
stiff, and his foot pointed to the south
when he faced the east There were
benches all around the room where peo
fb1C d1I0 llc lCducI WAIKIKI dIOu1O
In the center. He would go from per-
son to person and stand in front of
them while they spoke About the only
thing I could do to occupy my thoughts
while the people went over the stories
[ knew by heart was to watch his lame
leg as he swung it around, and wonder
if he couldn't walk better sideways. l
never heard how he got his lameness,
but would hatch up all kinds of theo-
ries to account for it, and nobody can
prove that that mans lame leg didn't
keep me from going crazy. One theory
| had was that when he. was a boy he
had wicked brother who struck him
with an ak.
At the close of this class meeting we
would go back home, and my father
would show me that awful picture of the
devil, and read and talk to me about the
Bible, until it was time to 60 church in
the evening, and hear that noisy preach
er pound his book and SANDER his
Heavenly Father as long as could keep
my eyes open. l can never forget how
he used to make the dingy flames in the
lamps fairly jump sometimes, when he
got steamed up on the terrors of the