The daily morning journal and courier., 1902-01-11

Long before the village of Flushing became a part of Greater New Aork' the Quaker quaintness of its early days had all but faded away. The act ot ln- corporation which made the village lose it's official identity, nearly completeo tha wininp-out process. Yet the fact that Quakerism obtained its first loot hold among the English refugees who X nane from Holland to found the place touches the earlier traditions of Flush ing with primness The old quaker naeting house still stands in Broadway, and is much the same as it was Wheil hu,lt early in 1700. Meetings are still held there, and the service differs only slightly from that which cemtorteo the early Ouakers when they met at nlght in the Long Island forest or gathered by stealth in the house of Friend All these precautions were necessary that the news of their 'doings' mlght not reach the cruel Dutch governor ol New Amsterdam
 Slowly but surely the quaker eieiiieii' is falling behind, and the few that re- main are rapidly losing thelr dlslinc- tiyeness by adopting the manners anu dress ofto-day. Still, it is posslpie to find genuine old time Friends In flush- ing If one can break through the par riers of dignity and reserve with Wiilcn < these few have surrounded tneniselVes the result is well worth While 10 pe received by one of these old famllles' to converse wit hthem, to break preau at their plain tables, is like pelng traiis- lated bodily into another age anu seii- I, vac eration They are living in the past anu of the past They treasure the uaoi- lions and manners of that bygone age with the greatest care, and they sorrow al the curse of frivollty which has over ! come so many who once believed as they do ,. s The Quaker to whom the legend hunt CT had a letter was not at home haVlhg gone to the wicked city on afalrs OF grave importance.
 ..Thou are welcome to come in ana warm thyself' said his wife, In sort voice. as she opened the door ot the olu horne still wider If there is anything can tell thee which will serve thy need thou hast but to command me-
 The sitting room into which the visit o,, was shown was dull and colorless, oven to the rag carpet" which covered 8 the floor. The furniture was old ana ' ~ lxeepina with the age of the whole es- tahIishment. The absence of books and newspapers was striking. Here was il house at last into which the irrepressi- ble historical novel had never pushed It. Self large Bible, sadly worn, showed what they read.
 girl of IS or 20 sat by the fire in law chair and sewed on some garment which she was making out of gray cloth 1.-the gray which the Quaker love. She did moi look up, though she was Wo- man. and must have been curious about s-- the man who came in with her mother.
 s1,his is our daughter. Priscilla said she. in that same quiet tone. "A strang- CT to see thy father" she continued turning to the girl. Thou may greet him
 Priscilla raised her head, which was greeting enough for king, for she was f,f uncommon beauty. Then she arose and bowed primly, saying, 'Thou art welcome" and the visitor had suspic- ion that she wanted to smile, which would have been a sad crime against the faith.
 we know nothing of newspapers. the mother said when the visitor had q. explained the object of his visit Our fathers did not have them, and we can not countenance new fangles ] can tell YOU some true stories of the days when Flushing was young, but legends-are lengends always true?'
 Tt hardly matters whether they arc true or not" said the visitor.
 And thou would print an untruth ir thy paper" she exclaimed, holding UT her little white hands in gesture oi horror.
 .I'm afraid we have to sometimes said the man, but untrue legends have the dignity of antiquity as their ex cuse."
 "Nothing can dignify an untruth, she said positively. What I tell vol will be absolutely true"
 ssThou hast never heard, I suppose, oj the trials of John Bowne, one of tho first Flushing Quakers, and one of tht most persecuted. He joined our society when the meetings were held at nigh in the green wood and when it was continual trial to be a professiona Quaker. His wife, as fine a. woman a' ever lived, brought him to the faith and as son as he was converted he or fered his house as a meeting place. Th' house still stands to-day, having beer nreseryed by the mercy of God, on ac count of the good which was accom- plished by it's builder.
 s'The Dutch liked not the Friends though we minded our own bushes: then as we do now and were quiet ant ,inofrensive. Governor Stuyvesant hearc that meetings were being held in Broth er Browne's house and summoned hin to New York They fined him larg' sum of money, which Browne refused to pay, and for that they thrust hin into a vile prison.
 tGive up this Quaker folly and l vii release you said the governor, If yol nersist in it, I'll exile you from the col ony send you to Holland on the frs ship that sails
 'Browne was strongly grounded II the faith and would not give in They tore him away from his beloved wifi and children and shipped him to Hol land on the ship Gilded Fox. The, said it was for the welfare of the com munity, and to crush as far as possible our set because we would not submi +o their political magistrates and min isters. He manifested his case before the officers of the West Indian compan. with great skill and they approved no of the governors action. Browne brought back a rebuke for StuyVesant of tnI h