Waterbury evening Democrat., 1892-10-27
PARSON PLADLEY.
A Word Picture of Old Puritan
 Days.

field, Massachusetts Bay colony, on a Sunday morning in June, 1876. The fifty or sixty log buildings which made up the settlement stood silent as so many tombs among the black stumps of the half-cleaned fields, for every soul in the place, from the old man of ninety to the youngest child, was in the meeting house on the hill-every soul, that is, except Abner True.
 Abner True, whose father was dea- con and tithing-man, and counted sec ond only to the minister himself in rigid piety, was actually playing tru- ant from meeting; and this in a village which looked upon Plymouth and Wey- mouth as dangerously worldly towns, relaxed in morals and manners by over-mueh prosperity.
 But Abner had worked from sun to sun every day of the last week, and knew he must do the same every day of the next week and the week after that; for the corn was to be hood, the grass crops got in, and score of other tasks to be done.
 It seemed to him too hard that, on this one day of rest, he should be obliged to sit upon bacl1less plank bench all the forenoon, if, indeed, he did not find himself forced to sit there longer; since Parson Pladley, who rarely preached less than three hours. sometimes preached four and once or twice had been known to exceed five hours.
 So when Deacon Amos, with his wife and younger children, were ready for meeting, no Abner could be found. Hidden in the little hay mow of the rough barn, he saw the family depart his father marching ahead, equipped with musl1et, bandoleer and powder horn; for King Philip and his Indians were at war against the whites, and no man throughout the colony went to field or church without his arms.
 Similar groups, similarly accoutred, paced solemnly along toward the rude sanctuary upon the hill, until Abner, seeing that all Huddersfeld had passed felt that he was safe-for the present. and lay down upon the soft hay to pre- pare for the sound nap he had so longed | for.
 The time went on. The old house was still now; the hens uttered only an occasional croal1. From the far dis tance the preachers voice came down on the warm breeze in a softened mur- I
 What was that? He heard a sound that wakcned him quite, and he sprang up to listen.
 Nothing but slight swishing sound in the tall grass behind the barn nothing but that. It was probably some fox or polecat on the watch to snatch a chicken. Abner peered out through a crack to see if he could dis cover the animal, for the swishing sound seemed drawing nearer.
 In the meeting house Parson Pladley had turned his big hour glass twice, and now the sands of the third hour were almost spent. Before him rows of serious men, women and children looked up in reverent attention, not once removing their earnest eyes from the minister.
 The heavy door was flung open and shut again with loud bang that start led every member of the congregation. A Loy, staggering and screaming with perspiraticn, ran up the broad aisle and fell exhausted at the foot of the pulpit.
 Every man stretched out hls hand tc the musket that stood beside him, but no one rose, no one said word or ut cred an exclamation.
 Whatever the danger was-and they knew what it might be-this was God: house, and in it none but Gods servan should raise voice or venture upo1 any action unless he permitted.
 The minister descended from hi place, leaned over the painting Abne1 l and caught the few words the boy hac strength to whisper: "Savages-ful x five score-stealing up--to take us un awaren'
 The minister returned to the pulpit
 "Kindle your matches, brethren, ; said he, in a voice of perfect tranquil lity.
 n The ring of flint and steel sounded all over the house.
 "Make ready your guns," continuet the minister, taking up a heavy mus ket, and blowing the match or fuse b. which it was discharged. "Muskcteers = to your stations. Ye tn at have bu swords or bikes, sit fast"
 The congregation obeyed these order as calmly as they had been giver Twenty-Five men, headed by Deaco 'i True, silently ranged themselves at tn ,e loopholes which were pierced in tn le door and along the walls. Each kne0
 his position. and took it without della - or hcsitation; while the fifteen me
 who had no firearms sat stiff1y on tn
 benches with the women and childre1 9r most of whom had not looked behin
 them since Abner rushed in.
 Parson Pladley looked at the hot
 glass, which still continued to run, an
 quietly resumed his sermon. Aroun
 the sides of the room the musketeel
 stopped at the loopholes amid the ligl
 vapor from the1r smoldering matches
 On the benches the body of listener n kept their composed countenanc'
 turned upon the preacher Save h
 voice, there was no sound bnt an mfr '' quent metallic rattle, as some mu
 keteer examined his gun or loosened h
 iron-hilted broadsword in the scabbar
 The words of the preacher sounde sy through the house:
 et And even as aforetim the heathe ,a- did furiously rage, and did compass u