The Manning times. [volume] (Manning, Clarendon County, S.C.) 1884-current, 1895-10-30
OLD PARSON WADE.

Aue pOmpOuS utG10 luduudu VI
the village church committee ended
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. It was growing
dusk, but the Pickering frelight
showed him the outlines of the old
mans gaunt frame, the droop of the
bowed head and the tremb bling, wrin-
kled hand upon which it rested.
There was something in Parson
Wade's 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 Hnsaid.
"Blest if I dreamed the old man
would feel so cut up about il" 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 Parsen 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 a new minister
Of later pattern and more popular
style? 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 licked
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.
'sYou won't hold no grudge, par
scGa" 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 a 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. Fitfu 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-
denrass, and only by degrees did he
receive from his half dazed condi
ton. over and over in mechanical
fashion herepeated Mr. Hicks words.
There's some that's tired Of old
fashioned doctrines and wish
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. It 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 newsa With bitter
reproaches, with stinging words, he
knew, and the thought sent a shud-
der through him. Yes, it 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 unmar-
ried daughters, who made no effort
to 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 to
the comfortable little income that
they gained by teaching. But by
continued taunts they succeeded in
making his whole life sad and un-
comfortable. Yet Parson Wade al
ways expected LhaI some Gay 10
would come home to find a kind wei
come and loving wesrds from them.
They're Mary's children, " he would
say to himself. Surely they must
care a little for their old father. :"
But this dreary November night the
old comforting assurance WAS no
longer his. In the bitterness of this
new pain he gave up all hope that
he could ever be wanted anywhere-
With these ts nights ir smind
the old man stumbled on and at, last
turned in at the gate and reached the
house that he called home. He
stepped out of the cold and gloom OF
the night into the warmth and cheer
of the cozy little hall. He paused
fo,. moment and held his thin