|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 20
"You're a drummer for a publishing house, I take it?" said Growler,
nodding toward the books in the strap. "I've just been wondering where
you'd find any buyers in these infernal woods."
The gentleman laughed. "No," said he, "this is my regular route; but
I'm not a commercial traveler in any sense. I'm a pastor at a town
near here, and I go out to these mountain families to hold services
every few weeks."
"You don't mean you foot it through these bushes and among these
wildcats to preach to the mountaineers!" exclaimed Growler in
astonishment.
"Certainly I do. These poor people would never hear the sound of the
gospel if some one did not take it to them. They have souls to be
saved, my friend. I feel it is my duty to carry the word to them. As
for the wildcats," he continued, smiling, "I have my rifle. Besides
the government offers a small bounty for every wildcat."
"Oh, yes, I see. You combine business with pleasure and have your
wildcat bounty to pay expenses as you go along--or else keep it for
pin-money," and Growler laughed good-humoredly at his own fun.
"You're the parson from St. Thomas, I judge," said Cheery.
The gentleman bowed, and said he was the pastor of that little church.
"I've heard of your mission work, and I understand you've done a great
deal of good among the mountain whites."
"How many churches have you in these mountains?" interrupted Growler.
"I have but the one church organization, for outside through the
mountains there are no churches--no buildings, no organizations.
People ten and fifteen miles apart can't very well have churches. I
visit the families. I have three on this mountain side. I am well
repaid for all the sacrifice of comfort I make, in knowing how glad
they are to have me come. To many of them I am the connecting link
with the rest of mankind. Ah! the world knows nothing of the
privations and sorrows and ignorance of many of these poor creatures!
Through the winter I am obliged to stop my visitations, but I generally
leave a few books and papers for those who can read, and pictures for
the children."
"Well, parson, I didn't know there was enough goodness in any man in
the United States to make him willing to tramp right into the wildest
part of the Allegheny. Mountains to preach the gospel to half a dozen
poor people!" exclaimed Growler, still more astonished.
"My friend," responded the gentleman earnestly, "the world is full of
Christian men and women who are trying to help others."
Just then my mother said to me, "When I hear the beautiful words that
minister speaks and see what he is doing, then indeed do I believe that
human beings have hearts."
As we resumed our journey I wondered if Growler would profit by the
sunshiny example of Cheery and the devotion of the parson of St. Thomas.
Later in our travels we came upon some old acquaintances. Our
stopping-place was near an ancient house on a mountain side. The
outlook was the grandest I had ever seen, and though I have traveled
much since then I have never found anything to exceed it in beauty. A
glistening river wound its way in a big loop at the foot of the
mountain, and beyond it lay stretched out a busy city.
A good many years before a battle had been fought on these heights,
which people still remembered and talked about. I heard them speak of
it as the "Battle above the clouds." There was still a part of a
cannon wagon in the yard which visitors came to see and examined with
much interest. They also often requested the landlady to let them look
at the walls of an old stone dairy adjoining the house, because the
soldiers had carved their names there.
To me it seemed strange that the guests would sit for hours on the long
gallery of this hotel, and go over and over the incidents of the
battle, telling where this regiment stood, or where that officer fell,
as if war and the taking of life were the most pleasant rather than the
most distressful subjects in the world. In the distance was a mammoth
field of graves, miles of graves, beautifully kept mounds under which
lay the dead heroes of that sad time.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|