The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1907-04-03


The stout man laughed.
Il guess we're all human" he said.
I'VE have all joys and sorrows, our
laughs and our pains, very much the
same as other folks. No doubt you're
sort O. prejudiced against us?"
81 was" said the young pastor. 'It
was Fart of my bringing up"
The stout man nodded.
You'll pardon my saying so, par
son." he slowly remarked, "but 1t
seems to me that prejudice is often
another name for ignorance"
Pm a young man." said the pastor,
Il have much to learn"
Again the stout man nodded.
You're going at 1t in the right
way" he said. "And now | want TO
ask a favor. | want you to come up
and see the lad. You'll know how to
talk to him. He won't stand for any
preaching, but there'll be a chance to
put in helpful word now and then"
He talked to the lad, and he read
to him-and the boy was pleased at his
coming. But the stout man seemed
tC keep aloof from the young pastor.
Early one evening the latter was
hurrying through his gateway when
he encountered the boys friend.
where so fast, parson?" the stout
man asked as he swung into step be-
side him.
ITO the village. There is trouble
there"
"Trouble! What sort of trouble?"
"a farmer on the west hill was shot
this afternoon by some unknown per-
son end badly wounded. A colored
man was seen lurking in the neigh
borhood. He was taken to Jail, and
there may be an attempt to lynch him
tonight And the sheriff is away and
isn't expected home until tomorrow.
But he has been telegraphed to return
at once. He knows how to handle
them"
Better keep away from this, par
doubt the fellow is guilty and mobs
are a bad proposition. Somebody is
pretty sure to get hurt"
The young parson shock his head.
81 hope I am a good citizen as we'll
as clergyman" he said.
The stout man grumbled beneath his
breath, but he kept step with the pas
tor.
Where are you going?" the latter
presently said.
with you," was the curt answer.
The village seemed quiet as they
crossed the park to the low building
used as jail. The jailor was alone
there, an elderly man.
'The sheriff can get back inside of
an hour" he told the pastor, ''and l
guess there won't nothin' dreadful
happen in that time"
So the pastor and the stout man
stood on the Jail steps and waited in
silence. And then suddenly across
the park they saw a confused rabble
approaching. There might have been
hundred persons in this mob, but
many of them were boys. AS they
neared the Jail they uttered wild cries.
Lynch. him!" they shreked.
"Give us the keys, Jim Ferguson"
cried voice, 'or we'll burn the Jail
over your head!"
Batter in the door, boys" yelled
a fellow
Then the pastor stepped out from the
shadow, and the stout man was close
at his side.
Men," cried the pastor, "listen to
mel"
''It's the parson," shouted voice.
"Give the parson chance"
And the young pastor, his voice full
of feeling besought them to reflect
His tones rang out clear and strong,
his words were impressive. But a
voice interrupted him.
That's enough, parson. You've
done your duty and now we'll do ours.
Get to work, lads"
There was a roar from the crowd,
but the young pastor was undaunted:
AS his voice arose again the ruffian in
the van tried to howl him down.
"Quit your yawp." he shouted.
you've had your say. Come on,
lads."
The stout man had been leaning for
ward, his eyes on the mob. Now he
suddenly leaped from the steps and
struck the noisy fellow swift blow
across the mouth with his open hand.
Take that, you loafer," he roared,
and snatched from the fellows hand
stout cudgel. and fiercely menaced
the mob. you scum!" he cried.
you've heard the parson-now listen
to me! There are two men here,
standing shoulder to shoulder for or
der and decency. They're not going
to let you get into this jail without
fight-and somebody will get hurt.