The Portland daily press., 1892-06-09

ciS 5UCGESSlQ vi DIS ION stb LII OU CADOStCOs you
Father Peters was comforted with the
belief that he had done some good for
these rude people; he certainly suffered
no prieks of conscience from sense of
neglected duty. Since his coming his
daughter Ella had grown to be beauti-
full young woman. His life focused in
her, and in regarding her he forgot that
the heavy hand of time was bowling his
own shoulders and bleaching his hair
like snow.
Bradley, the blacksmith, who was Mr..
Peters nearest neighbor, was man of
unusual physical strength, and before
the coming Of the preacher he had been
noted as fighter; indeed, he was credit
ed with having killed more than one
man. He had been shockingly brutal
and profane, and was known far and
near as s'Strong Dick Bradley" to dis
tinguish him from cousin of the same
name, who was not quite so strong. If
the only good done by the clergyman
had been the conversion of the black
smith, his work in the mountains might
well be considered a success. Bradley
no longer swore nor drank, nor had he
had fight for years. This remarkable
change, added to the fact that he was a
man of few words, gave the impression
to many that ''religion had took all the
pluck and snap out of Strong Dick Brad
ley
AS the men in the hills all voted the
Democratic ticket, the most exciting
elections never created a ruffie among
them, but as soon as it became known
that the southern states had seeded and
that war had come, the stagnation was
broken up and the mountaineers evinced,
for the first time in their lives, an awful
anxiety to learn what was going on in
the outside world. Bradley's black
smith shop became headquarters at
which the war was discussed, and men
specialized as to the time when the strife
would come to the hills, for they knew
it must come as the only relief to the
strain between the union and disunion
elements.
l have tried to point out in the course
Of these sketches that majority Of the
southern mountaineers were Union men,
yet there were places where, without
any apparent reason, the secession ele-
ment largely predominated. This was
certainly the case in Father Peters
neighborhood. As in most places the
secessionists were here the loudest in
their abuse and the most eager for war.
The old clergyman noted with alarm
the change that had come over his con-
gregation. AS he was northern man
they took it for granted, and they were
right in the s11rmise, that he was devoted
to the Union. But knowing that a loud
protestation Of his loyalty could do no
good and might do great deal of harm,
he kept his views to himself and by
every means in his power tried to pour
oil on the troubled waters.
But when everybody else was SO out
spoken, the reticence Of Father Peters
told against him, and the stories of his be-
ing an Abolitionist, which were SO rife on
his first coming, were again revived, and
this time with more bitterness, for the
people believed the charge was true.
One night as Father Peters was reading
in the little log annex he had built for
study, the door opened without any pre-
iminary knock and Strong Dick Brad
ley came softly in, and with an air of
great mystery noiselessly closed the door
behind him.
81 am glad to see you, Brother Brad
ley" said the clergyman. s'Sit down
and tell me the news, for you are in
position to learn what is going on here
about"
The blacksmith pulled his chair nearer,
and with his big hands to the sides of
his mouth to shield his voice, he whis-.
pered:
'rm sorry to tell yo', Father Peters,
that there's trouble a brewin harabout,
and lots of hit"
"Trouble to whom, Brother Bradley~
"Can't yo' guess?'
ttI cannot"
"Waal, hits to yo' and yours" said
the blacksmith, with an emphatic shake
of the head.
"But surely no one could wish to
annoy me. did not think / had an
enemy in the world,' said the alarmed
SlCl Sy nioeA'
"Thats jest hit" responded Bradley.
t'Thar hain't no one ez doesn't allow yer
the best preacher in the mountains, but
the boys say they don't like yer politics
and so they'll make trouble"
Father Peters protested that he had
not meddled in politics, and that since
the breaking out of the war a few
months before he had guarded his words
that he might not give offense.
'.Thats hit; that's why they've got SO
doggone sespichis. Now, Father Peters,
yo' know I've allus been good friend
Of yo'rs, ez I should be blamed dog not
to be, seein that you took me by the
hand and led me up to the light, bless
the Lor! But thar's dainjah all about
we uns, mos powahful dainjah, ez me
and the wife allowed this night. And
we said eff SO be yo' could go moth fo'
awhile till the trouble kinder blows ovah,
that hit'd be bettah fo' you and fo yer
friends"
More than once Father Peters and his
wife and daughter had discussed this
very question; but the old mans strong