The Roanoke times. [volume] (Roanoke, Va.) 1890-1895, 1892-06-30
THE DEACON'S MEETING.
How q Soul Received Now Light
and Inspiration.

HSAS' eiicrc! OOInc OOdyS a-knOck-
an lothian. DO you hear? There's
somebody a-comin' in"
Let 'cm come, blast it all! Don't
you suppose I've got cars as we'll as
you?"
There was heavy foot on the
scrapcr, then vigorous rustling of the
braided huslS door-mut and Rcny's Sec
ond appeal was in whisper
"Oh, lothian! Don't! III have it put
back; I'll do anything, if you'll take
that thing off and not make yourself
ridiculous"
Mind your business" growled the
man addressed, and he drew up still
closer around his shoulders the faded
print bcd-quilt in which he had wrapped
himself, and tucked the buffalo robe
tighter still into the arms Of his rock
ing-chair and about his knees
There were only two seasons in Mrs.
Dea Crabbe's household. The transition
of summer to winter was marked by
domestic rather than solar movements.
On the first day of May, unless that fell
upon Sunday, the good woman's
kitchen stove was moved into the shed.
the rag carpet, which had hung sus-
pended on n pole in the attic all winter,
was tackled down in it's place, chairs
tables and lounges crossed over and OK
changed partners, and after n lively
dance settled themselves down into
their regular summer relations to the
points of compass. After that warm
weather was in order. If belatcd
chill ventured to make itself felt in the
atmosphere, it was stoically ignored so
far as the old lady herself was con-
cerncd. Her husband, who had ALWAYS
been, in his private home life, some
what inconvcniently lcft-handcd in his
disposition, grumbled out few en-
phatic dcnunciations from his secular
vocabulary-for he was n church dca-
con, and had his experimenting phrase
ology US well-and then uuietcd down
into summer routine, and knew from
the transition that it was time to plant
corn, beans and cabbages. He never
had taken ON in this fashion before.
Perhaps he was getting rheumatic.
Rcny was just thinking over the re-
spective curative properties of the
herbs in the attic when the visitor
entered.
1t was the round, wcather-bcatcn
face of Sam Toolcy, the stage driver,
that appeared in the door. He took out
the red Gotten bandanna with which he
was wont to muffle the trumpet blast
from his nose, and after this little ccrc-
mony of salute he carelcssly diffuscd
his loosely-hung members on the near
est chair
well, deacon" said Sam, surveying
the old mans wrappings with quizzi-
cal air, "be ye to hum, or be yc gone to
bed, or be yc out ridin'? 1 hoped, for
the prosperity of Zion, that l should
find ye to hum, cause you've got ter
preach tomorrow. Dca Turner saws
so. He wanted me to tell We that Par
son Peters didn't come up tonight"
Sam was one of the most righteous of
sinners. lie was as upright rs saint
in his dealings and as flippant as a
scoffer in his speech.
$50. you see, you'd better be n castin'
off the robe of your own righteousness
kind O. patchwork, amt it?"-and
Sam drew up nearer and caught hold of
the corner of the bed quilt for closer
inspection-''and putin on the whole
armor O. God. You must anoint yer
feet and wash yer head and take the
shield of faith and the sword of the
spirit and 20 at 'em, hammer an longs
Tell 'em they're wicked and perverse
generation, and it's the Lords marcy
they amt consumed. Reel off list Of
their sins to 'em. 'Twon't hurt 'em
none. Tell 'Bijah Davis that he'll pray
like all possessed in the prayer meetin',
and he's been OWN me for hay nigh
on ter three years and can't git n cent
An Joe Joslyn'll grind out texts O.
Scripture as he grinds out corn in his
mill Int hail ,s--1,k
three times the toll he'd ought ter.
"And the womcnll whine out pray
ers, as women allus will when they
pray in mcctin', and end up with n
pious shuttle, an then on their way
home they'll tell stream of lies about
their ncighbors big enough to carry a
sawmill. tell We we ought ter have q
few more deacons appointed to- go round
and look into the private lives O. these
church members"
Sam paused with look of serious
concern on his face as he meditativelv
twirlcd his thumbs. The old clock never
licked SO loud
can then there's Christy Jones-she1l
squcal out n sly-splittin' psalm about
the Lords marcy bcin' evcrlasti.l' an
to all generations, when she's sent her
old bcd-ridden mother off to the poor
house sos't she can be free to spin street
yarn. Wilbur Brown, he's another of
them church fcllers. Every body knows
that he starved them two-ycarold crit
tiers of his'n till they couldn't stan up,
he's SO 'fraid he'd have to buy hay fore
spring. An then the young folks-thcy
take to the creed an covenant mighty
easy when them revival fcllers come
round, but they're an awful ungodly lot
for all that.