The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1892-09-30
miscellaneous.
PARSON PLADLEY.

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-cleared field, for every soul
in the place, from the old man of
ninety to the youngest child, =. as in
the meeting house OH the hill-every
soul, that is, except Abner True.
Abner True, whose father was q
deacon and tithing-man, and counted
second only to the minister himself
in rigid piety, was actually playing
truant from meeting and this is a
village which looked upon Plymouth
and Weymouth as dangerously world
ly towns, relaxed in morals and man
ners by over-much 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 hoed, the
grass crops got in, and a score of other
tasks to be done.
1t seemed to him too hard that, on
this one day of rest, he should be OBJ
liged to sit upon backless plank
bench all the forenoon, if, indeed, he
|
| longer; since ParsOn Pladley, VIII
rarely preached less than three hours,
sometimes preached four, and once or
twice had been known to exceed five
hours.
Abner felt sure that the sermon
would not be short one this day,
even according to the preachers
ideas of brevity; and the more he
thought of it the more he dreaded it,
until he became willing to incur any
punishment for the sake of escaping
that discourse.
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, equip
ped with musket, bandoleer and pow
der-horn for King Philip and his In
dams 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 Huddersfield had pass
| ed, felt that he was safe-for the pres
ent-and lay down upon the sound
soft hay to prepare for the sound nap
| he had so longed for.
Below old Fly, the farm horse
stamped and munched without, the
| hens crowd in the sunshine, with a
! drowsy note that should have been
favorable enough for slumber. But
between his guilty consciousness of
what he had done and his dread of
| -Inf al Il A
could not manage to go to sleep.
| He began to wish himself upon that
backless plank bench, even if the SER
mon were to last all day; yet tardv
arrival would be nearly as great an
offence as not to come at all and he
had not the courage to meet the pub
| lie reproof which Parson Pladley
might administer, or to hasten the
private chastisement that deacon
Amos would surely inflict.
The time went on. The old house
was still now; the hens uttered only
an occasional croak. From the far
distance the preachers voice came
! down on the warm breeze in a soften
| ed murmur. Abner was doing.
What was that He heard a sound
| that wakened him quite, and he
sprang up to listen.
Nothing but n slight swishing sound
in the tall grass behind the barn
nothing but that. 1t was probably
some fox or polecat on the watch to
snatch chicken. AbEer peered out
through q crack to sec if he could dis
cover the animal, for the swishing
sound seemed to be drawing nearer
! In the meeting house Parson Plad-
ley had turned his big hourglass 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 star
. tied every member of the conrrega-
! ton.
\ boy staggering and steaming with
Precipitation ran up the broad aisle
and fell exhausted ut the foot of the
| pulpit
I Every man stretched out his hand
to the musket that stood beside him,
but no one rose /; no one said a word
or uttered an exclamation.
Whatever the danger was-and they
knew well what it might be-this was
Gods house, and in it none but Gods
j servant should raise voice or ven
ture upon any action unless he per-
mitted.
The minister descended from his
place, leaned over the painting Abner
and caught the few words the boy had
strength to whisper ''Savages-fuH
demonstrating up-to take us UNI
| aware"
| The minister returned to the pulpit.
| "kindle your matches, brethren"
said he, in a voice OF pei feet tranquil
lily.
The ring of flint and steel sounded
| all over the house.
MAKE ready your guns, continued
the minister, taking up heavy mus
ket, and blowing the match, or fuse,
by which 1t was discharged. Mus
keteers, to your stations. Ye that
have bat swords or pixies, sit fast"
The congregation obeyed these or
ders as calmly as they had been given.
Twenty-Five men, headed by deacon
True, silently ranged themselves at
loopholes which were pierced in the
door and along the walls. Each knew
his position, and took it without de-
lay or hesitation: while the fifteen
men who had no firearms sat stiffiy
on the benches with the women and
children, most of whom had not look
| ed behind them since Abner rushed in.
Parson pladley looked at the hour
n L