The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1892-07-02

ful to have our meeting house shut
upP" she cried on entering.
| La child what should Il be open
for?" asked Mrs Flint In amazement
'Why, to have minister. as they
do at Lincoln. and everywhere else
but just here In Plumville."
There's no use talxin', Milly: we
haven't any money nor any public
spirit"
If you'll help me I'll have that
church open next Sunday" cried
Milly.
me! What can dop" sighed
poor Mrs. Flint aghast.
III you'll get your husband to NOW
the grass and sweep out I'll do the
rest"
Il don't believe he can"
Eyes. he can. II he has a mind to.
1t wouldn't take an hour" asserted
Milly.
We'll I'll ask him. but / know he
won't"
oh don't ask him, tell him he
must" said Milly, decidedly.
After much protest Mr. Flint agreed
to cut few swaths In front of the
church door, but no persuasion could
induce him to attack the cobwebs in
side.
A notice in feminine hand ap.
peared on the post Office door. and
another was nailed to the big elm
tine natives called 1t ellum) at 1.-The
Corners, to the effect that Sunday
August 20. d. ". there will be serv-
ices in the Congregational church.
All are invited. Old men put on
their spectacles and read these no.
tices slowly through-usually aloud
and also usually said: Il declar' fort"
On Sunday morning. August 20. the
farmers for five miles around came
over the hills and plunged down into
plumville valley. The horse shed
was full OF 'teams;" every hitching
post was in use. Even Deacon Bird
was on time. marshaling his numerous
progeny down the aisle. quito uncon-
scious (as all good men are) of the
makeshifts in their attire. called thus
suddenly to do duty as Sunday go-to-
meeting clothes. The soft summer
air swayed the long cobwebs depend
ing from the rusty stovepipes and blew
out the musty faint OF mouldy months.
1t was half pastiten. Perfect silence
reigned in the little bare church.
Some gray heads were bent forward
as be6tting the place. but lively eyes
glanced over the spectacles in eager
expectation. A few women shaded
their eyes with coarsened .hands in a
pretense OF being at prayer but even
there profound alertness was visible.
Then this happened: Miily French rose
and came forward to the communion
table, upon which stood a basket Of
lovely ferns and late roses She looked
serious but not at all frightened. She
read psalm in a clear voice. gave out
u hymn. which was sung by three ell
derby women in the front pew. then she
opened book and read Phillips
fort We my people" 1t can be mag
ined. perhaps how these sympathetic
words chained the attention and
touched the hearts OF all present 1t
was pretty sight and never to be
forgotten by those who saw it.
At the close the doxology was given
with will And thus d. ". the
Plumville church was opened on Sun
day morning, August 80 and it has
never been closed since. That was
years ago. but Milly French still reads
sermon there every Sunday morn
ing. She has educated that people
far beyond their means to pay for
They invite no candidate to their
pulpit They are familiar with tho
great preachers OF the world. Some
incline to episcopacy. and do not SEQ
"how you can get around the laying
on O. hands" Some are Beecherites;
others agree with Charming. Dean
Stanley and Canon Farrar have
following. Robertson and Maurice
are admired and loved. No creed
binds their consciences no formulated
VOW restrains them. They range
over spiritual truths as presented by
different and differing minds. Earnest
discussions and Jealous argument
show on occasion unusual thoughtful
ness and cultivation.
Thanks to Milly French. Plumville.
a bower OF vines and flowers. is one
OF the prettiest of small villages
physically. while for intellectual and
spiritual training 1t is one OF the most
advanced. Augusta w. Kellogg. in
Harper's Weekly.