Passaic City record., 1893-03-18
The Minister'S BARNS New
Clothes.
BIZ REV. B. FREEMAN ASHLEY.

The ReV. william w aSnlnStoH was
| the pastor of small church many
years ago in Port Mouton, an obscure,
isolated hamlet in the southeastern
part of Nova Scotia. He was the
father of two daughters and eight
sons. His salary was SO small that these
children were not like those (which are
"gorgeously appareled and live deli
cately," or sslive in kings courts"
What was left of the mothers gar
! ments were made over for the girls,
| and when the father got through with
| his coats and trousers what was left
| of them descended in true apostolical
succession from father to sons, from
the eldest to the youngest. So little
was left at the end of the succession,
the ragbag was chronically empty; it
couldn't stand up even when propped
in corner, but hung on nail in the
dark closet as fiat aud as thin as sun
dried Goldfish.
But Mr. Washington had SO much
trust in the wisdom of Providence,
and so much confidence in the recti-
tude of his own purposes, that he
gave himself little trouble about the
descent of ministerial clothes. In
ferior things of this sort were left en-
tirely to the care of Mrs. Washington,
whose practical mind and patient fin
gers at times threatened to make use
of the ragbag itself for the repair of
breaches in the family wardrobe.
Many time had the boys good reason
for saying: "There is a divinity that
shapes our ends-rough-hew them as
we may;" for the miracles she
wrought over the posteriors of panta-
looms were marvels of maternal in
genuity. Still, there was limit even
to her resources, and there were times
when needle, wheel and loom were in
danger of becoming idle through the
poverty which made material as scarce
as angels visits. Once when she was
almost in despair she received help
from most unexpected source.
One Sunday morning, just after the
holidays, when the air cracked with
frost and all the more quiet waters
were covered with thick ice, the min
lister went to the little unpainted meet
ing-house to preach his usual two
hours' sermon, sermon which he had
toilsomely elaborated into eleven
heads, and every head carried in his
own head disdainful of all aid of pen
or note. His wife followed on after
him with long trail of children be-
hind her, taking good care not to dis
turb his meditations; for what had he
to do with his family when the whole
world was lying in wickedness?
Two of the boys, however, Dick
and Freem, finding it hard to tear
themselves away from the warm glow
of the great open hearth were not in
the procession. 1t was quite late
when they started, and they hurried
to make up for lost time. The road
to the nmeeting" led over a dixie
which divided an inlet of the sea from
small lake beyond, that was nearly
surrounded with growth Of primi-
tive forest. The ice of this lake was
so clear and glary it shone in the
bright sun like great mirror.
When the brothers were halfway
across the dyke their attention was
suddenly arrested by black spot
moving on the ice. Dick, the eldest
brother, was skilled in woodcraft,
and quite noted as precocious hunt
er. "Crackee!" he exclaimed in great
excitement, ssthat is silver fox, as
sure as my name is Dick; and his
skin at this time of the year is worth
pile of money. If l could only get
that fellows fur, we'd get a chance
to shed some Of our old clothes"
"But what's the use of fling, when
you know you can't get him. said
Freem. rubbing his ears to keep them
from freezing, and stamping his feet
to keep his blood at lis business.
"PlI try, anyway" was the reso-
lutte reply. "Come on!" and he began
to run with all his might, making it
difficult for Freem to keep up with
him.
AT the further end of the dixie was
the house Of Sol Stewart, known as
"Uncle Sop' through The whole ham
let; he was rheumatic old Scotch
fisherman, who, in spite of his wife's
protests, had determined to stay at