Further Adventures of Quincy Adams Sawyer and Mason Corner Folks - Part 15
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Part 15

As Quincy was mounting Obed's Hill slowly, for it was very steep, he thought to himself--"Getting Uncle Ike to do something practical towards helping others was much better than talking theoretical religion to him."

When he reached the Hawkins House, Andrew was getting ready to drive to Cottonton to meet the three o'clock express from Boston.

"There's a friend of ours coming down on that train, Andrew--a young man named Merry." He took out his note book, wrote a few lines, and pa.s.sed the slip with some money to Andrew.

"You get that--have it covered up so no one can see what it is, and leave it in the barn when you get back."

Quincy told his wife about Arthur Scates and Uncle Ike.

"I'm going to take Uncle Ike to Mr. Gay's church to-morrow," he added, "but I didn't say anything about it to-day. I'm not going to give him time to invent excuses."

Maude did not conceal her pleasure at meeting Harry again. She was a companionable girl, and Mr. Merry was too sensible to think, because a young lady was sociable, that it was any indication that she was falling in love with him.

"Are you going riding this evening, Alice?" Quincy walked to the window.

"The sunset is just glorious. There's a purple cloud in the west, the edges of which is bordered with gold. There are rifts in it, through which the sun shows--and now, come quickly, Alice, the sun, a ball of fire, has just sunk below the cloud which seems resting upon it."

When they turned away from the window, Alice said:

"I don't think I will ride any more. Maude must take the horse I had--he is so gentle. What a pity Mr. Merry cannot go with her for a ride."

"He can. I sent Andrew for a saddle for him to use."

"Quincy, you are the most thoughtful man in the world."

In less than half an hour Maude, with Harry riding the mare, were on their way towards the Centre Road. When they returned, an hour later, there had been no runaway, unless Harry's heart had undergone one.

Maude's countenance did not, however, indicate that she had partic.i.p.ated in any rescue.

CHAPTER IX

A "STORY" SERMON

The influx of mill operatives and mechanics from Cottonton in search of a breathing place after a hard day's work, had led to the building up of the territory north of Pettingill Street and east of Montrose Avenue.

This fact had led to the erection of the Rev. Mr. Gay's church in the extreme northern part of the town, but near to both Montrose town and Cottonton city.

"We are all coming to your church this morning, Mr. Gay," said Quincy at breakfast.

"I shall be glad to see you, but you must not expect a city service. The majority, in fact all, of my parishioners are common people, and I use plain language to them."

"I think simplicity in devotional exercises much more effective than an ornate service," said Alice.

"Do you have a choir?" asked Maude.

"We can't afford one, but we have good congregational singing."

"I'm glad of that," said Maude. "I hate these paid choirs with their names and portraits in the Sunday papers."

"I shall take the carryall and go for Uncle Ike. It is a beautiful morning and you will all enjoy the walk," Quincy added.

Uncle Ike, at first, gave a decided negative. "I haven't been inside a church for many a year and it's too late to begin now."

"That's no argument at all," said Quincy. "But my princ.i.p.al reason for wishing you to go is so you can see the people that your hospital is going to benefit one of these days."

"But these preachers use such highfalutin' language, and so many 'firstlies' and 'secondlies' I lose my hold on the text."

"Mr. Gay is a common, everyday sort of man, does not pose when out of his pulpit, and never talks over the heads of his audience."

"How do you know all that?"

"I sit with him at table, and I've studied him. Then he told us not to expect a city sermon for he used simple language, and they have congregational singing."

"Well, I'll go--this once," said Uncle Ike, and Quincy a.s.sisted him in making his preparations. On their way to the church they pa.s.sed two couples--Alice and Mrs. Hawkins, and Maude and Mr. Merry. Mr. Jonas Hawkins could not leave home for he was afraid the cats would carry off his last brood of chickens. Some fifty had been hatched out, but only a dozen had survived the hot weather, heavy rains, and the many diseases prevalent among chickens.

When Mr. Gay arose to give out the first hymn, Maude said to Mr. Merry, "Why, he looks like a different man. His red hair is a beautiful brown."

"It's the light from the coloured gla.s.s windows," commented Mr. Merry.

"Then it must be the curtains in Mrs. Hawkins' dining room that colour his hair at home," retorted Maude.

How grandly rose the volume of tone from scores of throats! Even Uncle Ike's quavering voice joined in.

"All hail the power of Jesus' name, Let nations prostrate fall; Bring forth the royal diadem, And crown Him Lord of all."

The organ creaked and wheezed somewhat, but so many fresh, young voices softened its discordant tones.

A short prayer, and Mr. Gay began his sermon, if such it can be called.

"MY BRETHREN: My text, to-day is, 'The fool hath said in his heart, There is no G.o.d.' All nations have a G.o.d, even if all the people do not believe in him. The majority in each nation does believe in a G.o.d. Are those who do not believe all fools? Unhappily, no. There are many highly educated men and women who deny the existence of G.o.d. They claim man is a part of Nature, and Nature is all. They forget the poet who wrote

"'Man is but part of a stupendous whole, Whose body Nature is, and G.o.d the soul.'

"Remember, G.o.d is the Soul. Each of you has a soul, a spark of the Divinity.

"I can best support my argument by a story--a true one.

"I once knew a young man whom we will call Richard. He had a well-to-do father and was sent to college. When he graduated, his father, a pious man, wished him to study for the ministry. He objected, saying his health was poor. He wished to go into the mountains, he lived in the West, and his father consented.

"He drifted into a mining camp and whatever regard he may have had for religion, soon disappeared. He was not a fool, but, in his heart, he said there was no G.o.d.

"With another young man, whom we will call Thomas, he formed a partnership, and they went prospecting for gold,--gold that the G.o.d whom they would not acknowledge had placed in the earth.

"They were attacked by Indians and Thomas was killed. Richard was obliged to flee for his life. His food was soon exhausted, he had no water, he had no G.o.d to whom he could pray for help.

"He came to a hole in the ground, near a foothill. He got upon his knees and looked down--yes, there was water--not much, but enough for his needs--but it was beyond his reach. He leaned over the edge to gaze upon the life-giving fluid that G.o.d has given us, and his hat fell into the well. In his hat was his gold-dust--his fortune--so useless to him then.

He forgot his thirst for water in his thirst for gold.