Fairhaven herald. [volume] (Fairhaven, Wash.) 1890-????, 1892-10-25
PARSON PLADLEY.


ment stood silent as so many tombs among
the black stumps of the half cleared 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 a deacon
and tithing man and counted second only
TO the minister himself in rigid piety, was
actually playing truant from meeting, and
this in village which looked upon Plym-
outh and Weymouth as dangerously world
~ towns, relaxed in morals and manners
by overmuch 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 obliged to sit
upon backless plank bench all the fore
noon, 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.
Abner felt sure that the sermon would
not be short one this day, even according
to the preachers idea 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 meet
ing no Abner could be found. Hidden in
the little haymow of the rough barn he
ha "
ing ahead, equipped with musket, bando-
leer 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 accoutered,
paced solemnly along toward the rude
sanctuary upon the hill until Abner, see
ing that all Huddersfield had passed. felt
that he wasSafe-fOr the present-and lay
down upon the 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 crowed in
the sunshine with a drowsy note that
should have been favorable enough for
slumber. But between his guilty con-
seriousness of what he had done and his
dread of what Deacon Amos would do
Abner could not manage to 20 to sleep.
He began to wish himself upon that
backless plank bench, even if the sermon
were to last all day; yet a tardy arrival
would be nearly as great an offense as not
TO come at all and he had not the courage
to meet the public reproof which Parson
Pladley might administer, or to hasten the
private chastisement that Deacon Amos
would surely inf1ict.
The time went on. The old house was
still now; the hens uttered only an oc-
casional croak. From the far distance the
preachers voice came down on the warm
breeze in a softened murmur. Abner was
doing.
What was that? He heard a sound that
Weakened him quite, and he sprang up to
listen.
Nothing but 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.
Abner peered out through crack to see
if he could discover the animal, for the
swishing sound seemed drawing nearer.
In the meeting house Parson Pladley
had turned his big hourglass twice, and
now the sands Of the third hour were al
most spent. Before him rows of serious
men, women and children looked up in rev.
erent attention, not once removing their
earnest eyes from the minister.
The heavy door was flung open and shut
again with loud bang that startled every
member of the congregation. A boy,
staggering and streaming with perspi-
ration, ran up the broad aisle and fell ex-
hausted at the foot of the pulpit.
Every man stretched out his hand to the
musket that Stood beside him; but no one
rose, no one said word or uttered an ex-
clamation.
Whatever the danger was-and they
knew well what it might be-this was
Gods house, and in it none but Gods serv-
ant should raise a voice or venture upon
any action unless he permitted.
The minister descended from his place,
leaned over the painting Abner and caught
the few words the boy had strength to
whisper, "Savages-full demonstrating
up-to take US unawarew
The minister returned to the pulpit.
"Kindle your matches, brethren" said
he in a voice ofperfect tranquility.
The ring of flint and steel sounded all
over the house.
make ready your guns" continued the
minister, taking up a heavy musket and
blowing the match or fuse by which it was
discharged. "AIusketeers, to your stations
Ye that have but swords or pixies, be fast"
The congregation obeyed these orders as
calmly as they had been given. Twenty
five men, headed by Deacon True, silently
ranged themselves at the loopholes which
which were pierced in the door and along
the walls. Each knew his position and
took it without delay or hesitation, while
the fifteen men who had no firearms sat
stiffly on the benches with the women and
children, most of whom had not looked
behind them since Abner rushed in.
Parson Pladley looked at the hourglass,
which still continued to run, and quietly
resumed his sermon. Around the sides Of
the room the musketeers stopped at the
loopholes amid the light vapor from their
smoldering matches
On the benches the body of listeners kept
their composed countenances turned upon
the preacher Save his voice, there was
no sound but an infrequent metallic rat
tie as some musketeer examined his gun