Capital journal. (Salem, Or.) 1893-1895, 1893-11-01
OLD PARSON WADE.

Lu6 NllltlS0 CuuICu COIuI1lCUe6 enQ6Q
his neat little speech with a final
flourish of his fat hands, and leaning
back in his chair complacently await
ed the reply Of his audience, the
Rev. James Wade. But there was
no response from the motionless fig
ure by his side. 1t was growing
dusk, but the Pickering freight
showed him the outlines of the old
mans gaunt frame, the droop of the
bowed head and the trembling, wrin.
kled hand upon which it rested.
There was something in Parson
Wades attitude that disturbed the
chairman's self complacency, and he
shifted uneasily from one position
to another and wished heartily that
his words had remained unsaid.
'Blest if l dreamed the old man
would feel SO cut up about it, he
said to himself. GAS Mis- Prentice
said, he'd orter expect it. He's he'd
his day"
It had seemed a simple thing.
Old Parson Wade had become old
fashioned and rusty and outgrown,
too, by the people of the bustling
little factory village. What was to
be done, then, but to throw him one
side, like any dingy old garment,
and replace him with new minister
of later pattern and more popular
style2 But for some reason it is an
easier matter to discard an old coat
than an old pastor, at least so
thought Chairman Hicks as he
glanced uneasily at his companion,
while several minutes slowly ticked
themselves away.
At last the stiffness became unsup-
portable. He started up and fell to
poking the fire with nervous, ener
getic strokes, which seemed likely
to put out the flames. His action,
however, served to arouse Parson
Wade, who rose mechanically,
reached for his shabby beaver hat,
and with a low Good night, Mr..
Hicks, moved with slow, uncertain
steps toward the door
you won't hold no grudgc, par
SOM" said Mr.. Hicks, following him.
But the parson suffered his nerveless
fingers to rest for an instant in the
strong grasp of the chairman, then
silently opened the door and went
out. He tottered down the steps and
fumbled several minutes at the gate
before he could open it.
The day was ending in dreary rain
"a chilly November rain that made
people turn up their coat collars !
with a shiver and remark that win
ter was coming. The wind whistled
about the lonely figure as it crept
slowly up the road. Fitful gusts
played with the thin locks that
struggled over his collar and pierced
his threadbare garments, while the
rain moistened his spectacles so that
the faded old eyes could scarcely see
the path. But old Parson Wade
seemed to heed neither wind nor
rain, but with head bowed low stag
gered on in the binding storm. If
passersby noticed the desolate fig
ure it was only to clasp their bun
dies tighter, button their coats closer
and hurry past. leaving him soon
forgotten.
The news of his dismissal had
come to Parson Wade with cruel sud
denness, and only by degrees did he
recover from his half dazed condi-
ton. Over and over in mechanical
fashion he repeated Mr.. Hicks words:
There's some that's tired OF OLD
fashioned doctrines and wish a
younger preacher A progressive
age, parson, is that we're living IN.
They were tired of him, then, that
was what it all meant, and there was
no longer any use for him in the
world. 1t would be so always now
Nobody would care for him or look
to him for aid. And the girls, his
daughters, what would they say
when they heard of it, how would
they receive this newsi With bitter
reproaches. with singing WORDS nc
knew, and the thought sent a shud,
der through him. Yes, 1t would
make things worse for him at home,
and things were sorry enough there
at best.
All through the dreary years since
his wife's death the old man had
been under the rule of two unlnar.
ried daughters, who made no enort
70 conceal the fact that their old Ia
ther was an uncomfortable burden
ON their hands. They allowed him
shelter and food to avoid town gos-
sip and added his meager salary 70
the comfortable little income tnat
they gained by teaching, But oy
continued taunts they succeeded III
making his whole life sad and un'
comfortable. Yet Parson Wade az
ways expected that some day nc
would come home 10 find a KIND wei
come and loving words from them,
They're Mary's children, no woala
say 10 himself. Surely they must
earn A little for their old fAtner'