Griggs courier., 1893-03-24

senting voices; and there lac,ss q ie Ad.
era fact which explains much inac.
tion in other cases besides this!
hear of Mrs. Crabtree as confined to
her bed with no one to nurse her but
her cruel husband; and heroically re-
solve to go and take care of the poor
woman even at the risk Of my lifs if
need be.
But as arrive at this decision I am
suddenly taken very ill; and conse-
quently lose sight of the Crabtree
case for time On my recovery hear
no more and conclude that the affair
has died natural death for lack of
fuel, or of busy tongues to fan the
flame.
Several weeks afterward. being in
town. l go one Sunday evening to the
little church where o number of my
neighbors attend services. and where
some OF them arc members.
The services are in progress when I
enter. 1t is very warm. Palm-leaf
fans are being piled vigorously. There
seems to be no sermon. 1T is kind
of prayer-meeting," think. as find q
seat. Another hymn is sung, and then
the pastor rises to make few re-
marks. He begins by reading that love.
ly chapter of First Corinthians in which
charity is SO exquisitely defined.
Charity suffereth long and is kind;
charity envieth not; charity vaunteth
not itself; is not puffed up; doth not
behave itself unseemly; seeketh not
her own. is not easily provoked, think.
eth no evil; rejoiceth not in iniqu,ty.
but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all
things. hopeth all things, endureth all
things; charity never faileth!"
The worthy pastors aftcr-remarks
seem to me trifle trite and common
place. and find myself wishing that
he had contented himself with the
apostles beautiful letter. But finally
he arouses every ones attention:
Brethren and sisters! I take this
opportunity to allow one of us-Broth-
er Crabtree-t6 make-an explanation
about q certain-matter-of which, I
am sorry to say, there has been great
deal of talk; and some of it nc> ut all
in the spirit of the chapter which we
have just read. 1t is to bc hoped, my
dear brethren, that this-matter-will
60 no farther, out that we .vill all re.
member to practice the charity that
thinketh no cvil."
Brother Crabt-ee" rises slowly and
stifly. He clears his throat and paus-
eS There is no lack of attention.
Every neck is crancd in his direction;
every eye is fastened ON his face, every
ear is stretched to its widest so to
spe ak; and nearly every mouth is liter
ally in the same condition.! I am SO
irreverent that long for the pencil of
a Mast or at least to be able to ''prcss
the button" that may catch the horri-
fed and ludicrpus expression on some
of the faces.
The silence is intense. What is 60
ing to be revealed of that mysterious
case? What rcpentant confession of
guilt? l may be wrong, but fear the
uncharitable ones feel no pity. All
their thoughts are merged in his con.
fession. The fans cease to move; tho
men and boys to chew tobacco-they
almost forget to breathe. In their
pent-up lives it is supreme moment.
And I confess that l am not without
curiosity and interest. Oh. poor human
nature! Always SO prone and keen to
anticipate the dread Judgment day!"
And SO rarely anxious to cover up with
mercy's veil any sins Of our own. At
last he speaks. This is his confession:
Brethren and sisters" he begins, II
disremember jist what mornin' twas
that my wife said she was plum tired o.
them air 'mud-daubers;' and l got me
a lath an went for 'em. l knocked
down right smart of the nests an I
killed q heap of the wasps, an my wife
was u aswccpin' up the dirt. an we see
Mrs. Meeks a-peekin', an jist he'd to
set right down an laff an git rested
some. disremember if we shet the
door or not. l didn't low to hit my
wife none. She's here; ye kin ask
her."
He sat down suddenly, having prob.
ably made the longest speech of his
life.
I'VE will now hear from Safer Crab.
tree" supplements the pastor.
oAStCG STdOtICc T1ocS Au uCk p1dC0
SO promptly and begins to speak SO
vehemently that suspect she has
been longing for the opportunity. She
is a tall, spare woman with keen,
bright eyes and dark hair with gray
streaks like wisps of hay. She looks
quite capable of holding her own as
against her husband, who is mild
hammered old man with white hair.
and his tall form is some what bent
with age and la Dor.
''Thar's been a heap more talk" she
says grimly, "'bout us than thar was
ary call fur. My husband was a.
knockin' down The mud-daub bers'
nests. jist as ne says. We've always
aimed to tend to our own bizness an
not bother nobody. An eff we want
help we kin call 'em in. My husbands
bin mighty good to me; he never struck
me no blow; ans fur's 1 know he
didn't aim to that air mornin'.
dunno who started the story that he
was a-beatin' of me. I reckon 1 kin
take keer of myself! But hit pears