Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1917-01-11

hO bibhtu hSaNhy.
"Yes, I do, on many accounts. But
I think that any parson in a place lie
this ought to know and face all the
difficulties of the situation before he
comes to a definite decision and mar
ries. Isn't that your own view7 You've
had experience of married parsons
here: what do you think?p
"WelI, you see the matter is Just
like this: Every parish wants an un.
married parson; the vestry cause he's
cheap, every unmarried woman cause
he may be possible suitor; and It's
easier to run him than 1t Is q married
man. He may be decent, well bred
and educated. And he comes to par.
eel Of ignoramuses who think they
know ten times as much as he does.
II he can't earn enough to marry on,
and has the good sense to keep ou.
of matrimony, the people talk about
his bein' selfish old bachelor who
neglects his duty to society. He can't
afford to run a tumbledown rectory
like ours. II in the face of all this
he marries, he has to scrimp and stint
until it is a question of buyin' one egg
or two, and lettin' his wife worry and
work until she's fit for a lunatic asy-
lum. No business corporation, not ev-
en- a milk peddlin' trust, would treat
Its men so or expect good work from
'em. Then the average layman seldom
thinks how he can help the parson.
His one idea is to be kicker as long
as he can think of anything to kick
about. The only man in this parish
who never kicks is paralyzed in both
legs. Yes, sir; the parson of the
country parish is the parish goat, as
the sayin' is"
Mrs. Burke ceased her trade, and
after a while Maxwell remarked quiet
ly:
Mrs. Burke, I'm afraid you are
pessimist."
I'm no such thing she retorted
hotly. "a pessimist's man thar
sees nothin' but the bad, and says
there's no help for it and wont raise
a hand: he's a proper sour belly. An
optimists man that sees nothin'
but the good, and says everything's
all right; let's have good time. Poor
fool! The practical man-anyway, the
practical woman-sees both the bad
and the good, and says we can make
things a whole lot better if we try;
let's take off our coats and hustle to
beat the cars, and see what happens.
The real pessimists are your Bascoms,
and that kind: and I guess | pity bin
more than blame him: he seems as
lonesome as a tooth pick in cider
barrel"
"But thought that Bascon was a
wealthy man. He ought to be able
to help out, and raise money enough
so that the town could keep parson
and his wife comfortably"
Sure thing! But the church isn't
supported by tight fisted wealthy peo
pie. It's the hard workin middle
class who are willin' to turn in and
spend their last cent for the church
And don't you get me started on Bas
com as you value your life. Maybe
I'll swear blue streak before l get
through: not but what l suppose that
even Bascom has his good p.ints
like porcupine. But little emery
T per on Bascom's good points would
n" hurt 'em very much. They're aw-
full rusty"
"Oh well! Money isn't all there Is
in life," soothed Maxwell, smiling.
mo, not quite; but it's a mighty
good thing to have in the house. You'd
think so if you had to wear the same
hat three summers. Eve got to that
time in my life where l can get along
very we'll without most of the neces,
stiles; but 1 must have few luxur-
les to keep me goin'."
"Then you think that a clergyman
ought not to marry and bring his wife
10 a place like Durford?'
81 didn't say anything of the sort.
II you was to get married I'd see you
through, if it broke my neck or Bas.
com's."
"Do you know you seem to me a
lit illogical?" remarked Maxwell mild
ly.
Don't talk to me about logic! The
strongest argument is often the DIG
gest lie. There are times in your life
when you have to take your fate in
both hands and shut your eyes, and
jump in the dark. Maybe you'll land
on your feet, and maybe you-wont.
But you have got to jump just the
same. That's matrimony--common
sense, idiocy, or whatever you choose
to call It'll never could tell which.
It's the only thin; TO do; and any man
with backbone and fist won't hes
itate very long. If you marry, I'll see
you through; though of course you
won't stay here long, anyhow"
you're awful kind, Mrs. Burke,'
Maxwell replied, land l shant forget
your promise-when the time comes
for me to take the momentous step.
But / think it would be the wisest
thing for me to keep my heart free