The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1900-06-01

He waited rather modestly for the older
people to welcome him and was gracious,
but not overcordisl. For once Green Is
land had to do its half OF brotherly
friendilness. Hitherto It bad basked In
the condesccnding, yet propitiating smiles
OF its clersymen.
The Rev. Kite gave a house warming
In his barn presently and invited every
body. 1t was in the afternoon, and he
had games and got mp a football eleven.
No one knew how he succeeded. Even
baseball had lsnguished hitherto at Green
Island. Also he invited three young fell
lows to 60 rowing up the river with him
the next week to be gone all day. And
az no one invited him to dinner he asked
the dcacons Of his church and their wives
to dine with him. He had Miss Wessles,
q spinster Of discreet age and character,
presiding over his domestic Affairs.
Green Island went home from this re-
markable house warming in Gutter. To
begin with, II wanted to know where the
Rev. Thomas Kite got the money for all
this entertainment. Moreover, II would
be pleased to ascertain how he was to
find time for supping and boating and
football playing and the like. His con-
duct with the young ladies' was carefully
EtNltWtus Uuk no UAG W - abtt wen "st~@
the most strenuous efforts TO say that he
paid more attention to one than the
other. 80
Every one was at church the next Sab
bath--literally every one. But still the
Rev. Kite neglected to mention Green Is
land or its prospects or condition, spirit
ual or temporal. He oomplained OF no
lack Of interest. He merely said be would
take the Bible class for a picnic the fol-
lowing Thursday and asked that the La
dies society arrange for n picnic for the
younger Sunday school scholars. With
out knowing it, Green Island began TO en-
Joy itself. II began to find itself interest
ing. 1t was profoundly complimented
when the Rev. Kite put the stamp OF APP
proval on Nina Cutters singing by invit-
ing every one TO hear her at his house
one autumn evening. 1t was vastly en-
tertained by the Tennyson readings he
gave Monday nights.
All of these affairs were held In the
large room In the renovated barn, where
the great red brick fireplace was, ana the
shelves Of books and the piano and com.
Portable plain chairs. Miss Wessles had
grown urbane. She wore blue gown
and q high ribbon collar, and she devei-
oped genius for entertaining which had
been hitherto unsupported. She dispensed
the simple hospitality Of the place with q
gracious air. Green Island, which had
always supposed there must be a Dig
spread Of cakes and pickles, jam ana
meats, wondered at the calm countenance
with which the young minister served o
few cookies or crackers and tea. But II
concluded, after time, that this was
sensible. IL somewhat conspicuously fru.
gal.
At the end Of a year Green Island
found itself In state Of activity. 1t hao
two literary societies, Q singing ciub, a
class In lathe work Of an ornamental
character, a guild Of fine needle workers,
a civic committee who cut weeds down
beside the streets, cleaned up unsightly
dumps, made q flower garden in the
school and rescued the cemetery from I'M
seemly neglect. Moreover, 1t had COLL
links north Of the town, and the Rev.
Thomas Kite was president, major domo,
crack player. Green Island people began
to wonder why more folks didn't move to
town and to marvel il anybody left 1t. II
began to talk about its interesting social
circles. 1t thought 1t would be good
thing for the railroad II II should come
there. And 1t concluded finally that II
couldn't afford 10 let Thomas Kite 60 to
some other town two Sundays out of ev-
cry three. So ii multiplied his salary in
ratio, and even went tho length Of paying
what it agreed to.
"He made this town." said Deacon
Fennig to his daughter. There's no get
ting around that 1t was because he was
alive way through. Them theological
corpscs almost done us up. But l guess
there was a good deal of the corpse about
the lot Of us. Mr.. Kite. he kind o gal
vinized u.s."
Mary Fennig sighed, but said nothing.
She had her own view Of the case. II
didn't seem at all difficult to imagine q
more appropriate mistress for the pic.
turesque parsonage than the squint eyed
Martha Wessles.-Chicago Tribune.