1102 
7T/>g  RURAL  NEW-YORKER 
The  Pastoral  Parson  on  the  Lonely  Road 
Lights  and  Shadows  of  Country  Life 
By  Rev.  Geo.  B.  Gilbert 
ever  since  that  I  did  not  go  up  and  bap¬ 
“A  Minister’s  Dance.” — That  is  the 
way  is  was  headed  in  a  farm  paper.  It 
wasn’t  really  a  minister’s  dance  at  all, 
but  it  was  something  quite  new  in  the 
line  of  ministers’  conferences.  We  had 
one  on  “Rural  Church  Work”  over  at 
Storrs  College,  and  when  the  program 
was  made  up  the  Pastoral  Parson  was 
asked  to  speak  on  ‘‘Lights  and  Shadows 
in  Country  Work.”  lie  agreed  to  do  so 
if  they  would  let  him  illustrate  his  re¬ 
marks  with  a  real  old-fashioned  country 
social  afterwards.  This  was  heartily 
agreed  to.  So  on  the  second  and  last 
evening  of  the  gathering,  after  the  Par¬ 
son  had  told  them  of  many  things  he  had 
seen  and  done  on  the  Lonely  Road,  he 
proceeded  to  pull  off  one  of  his  typical 
country  schoolhouse  socials.  A  little  con¬ 
fection  was  passed  round — pop  corn, 
wafers,  etc.,  to  invite  sociability,  and  the 
grand  march  was  started.  “My,”  re¬ 
marked  many  a  minister’s  wife,”  I 
haven't  done  such  things  since  I  was 
married.”  The  Parson  expected  to  fol¬ 
low'  with  a  few  mild  games  hut  a  dapper 
parson  on  the  other  side  of  60,  with  frock 
coat  and  white  bow  tie  and  side  whiskers, 
stepped  out  and  asked  for  the  Virginia 
reel!  You  would  be  surprised  to  see  how 
quickly  two  sets  were  made  up,  and  the 
vim  that  was  put  into  it  as  the  grapho- 
phone  threw  out,  “The  Irish  Washer¬ 
woman.”  Then  we  played  courtesy,  one 
of  our  very  best  country  social  games 
and  then  we  had  a  quadrille  of  two  sets 
and  so  on.  How  those  people  seemed  to 
enjoy !  The  effect  of  these  games  on 
the  whole  conference  was  little  short  of 
magical.  The  whole  thing  had  been 
rather  formal  and  dignified  before.  The 
people  went  to  the  addresses  and  came 
back  and  sat  around  and  looked  at  each 
other  in  true  New  England  stranger 
fashion.  But  now  they  were  all  visiting 
and  having  a  fine  time.  “This  party 
ought  to  have  been  the  first  night,”  is 
what  they  all  said.  After  the  games 
and  dancing  several  hymns  wore  sung 
and  the  gathering  was  dismissed  for  the 
night  with  the  benediction  by  the  Pas¬ 
toral  Parson. 
Uncommon  Common  Sense. — That  is 
the  way  a  reporter  sized  up  what  he 
dubbed  the  Gilbert  method  of  doing  coun¬ 
try  work,  All  there  is  to  it.  is  to  give 
people,  not  what  we  think  they  ought  to 
have,  hut  what  they  themselves  really 
need.  It  may  be  one  thing  or  it  may  be 
quite  another,  but  among  all  classes  and 
in  every  household  of  any  kind,  there  is 
some  hunger  of  body  or  mind  to  he  sat¬ 
isfied.  Have  sense  and  patience  to  find 
it  out  and  supply  it.  When  people  shun 
a  prayer  meeting  and  pack  the  house  for 
a  social  and  dance,  will  we  cry  out  at  the 
depravity  of  human  nature  or  say,  “These 
people  here  are  in  need  most,  of  all  of  a 
social  life — we  will  give  it  to  them  and 
then  later  on  lead  them  into  other  paths 
also.” 
Tiie  Natural  Way. — Why  not  do  the 
natural  thing  and  follow  the  natural 
way  and  steer  and  guide  the  iuborn 
yearnings  of  a  people?  Many  a  minis¬ 
ter  and  his  wife  have  worked  unspeak¬ 
ably  hard  and  done  long  and  faithful 
service,  hut  when  it  came  to  this  one 
thing — the  natural  recreations  and 
amusements  of  the  people — right  there 
they  and  their  people,  especially  the 
young  people,  have  clashed,  and  a  work 
of  profit  has  turned  into  anguish — the 
people  hang  back  and  the  parson  moves 
on.  It's  all  very  well  to  talk  about  ’'see¬ 
ing  Nellie  home,”  but  what  is  a  “coun¬ 
try  feller”  going  to  see  Nellie  home  from? 
An  afternoon  sewing  circle?  And  how 
is  he  going  to  show  a  little  preference 
for  Nellie  if  there  are  never  any  games 
or  dances  for  him  to  invite  his  partner? 
It  tries  one  to  have  this  country  social 
work  talked  about  as  though  it.  was  a 
bait  to  get  people  into  some  church.  It 
isn’t  a  bait  to  get.  people  anywhere,  but 
God’s  own  work  in  its  very  self,  and  in 
many  place  more  needed  today  than  any¬ 
thing  else. 
A  Country  Experience. — One  day  in 
the  Winter,  with  a  wet  snowstorm  in 
progress,  I  had  word  to  go  down  coun¬ 
try  about  15  miles  for  a  funeral.  It 
was  to  be  at  two  o’clock,  so  with  a  bag 
of  lunch  on  the  seat  beside  me  (nothing 
so  shortens  a  long  trip  when  alone)  I 
started  out.  Now  don’t  think  the  Pas¬ 
toral  Parson  is  irreverent  in  telling  this. 
Funny  things  will  pop  up,  especially  on 
the  saddest  occasions.  I  entered  the 
long  kitchen  just  in  time  and  proceeded 
to  put  on  my  vestments.  One  could  go 
to  the  right  of  the  stove  into  the  parlor 
where  was  the  casket  or  he  could  turn 
to  the  left  in  a  sitting  room.  Most  of 
the  people  were  into  the  room  at  the 
right,  with  a  few  men  in  the  kitchen. 
By  this  time  it  was  snowing  quite  hard. 
I  was  just  ready  to  go  into  the  parlor  to 
begin  when  I  whs  beckoned  to,  to  step 
into  the  sitting-room.  There  the  husky 
son  of  the  deceased  farmer  quietly  in¬ 
formed  me  that  he  wanted  to  get  mar¬ 
ried  !  It  did  come  as  a  slight  shock  to 
me  but  I  stammered  out:  “When?” 
“Now,”  he  answered.  “When  we  return 
from  the  grave?”  I  said  questiouingly. 
“No,  right  here,  right  now!”  I  felt  lit¬ 
erally  a  little  weak  at  the  knees.  “Have 
you  the  girl?”  I  asked.  “Yes,  here  she 
is,”  and  he  led  forth  a  likely  buxom- 
looking  lass.  “Have  you  a  license?”  I 
asked  next.  He  drew  one  from  his  poc¬ 
ket.  I  saw  nothing  to  do  but  to  start 
in  on  the  wedding.  I  found  the  new 
place  in  my  prayer  book  and  went  ahead. 
Now  among  the  relatives  and  neighbors 
of  the  other  room  was  the  daughter  of 
an  Episcopal  clergyman,  and  upon  her 
astonished  ears  began  to  fall  the  familiar 
wedding  service — “We  are  gathered  to¬ 
gether — to  join  together  this  man  and 
this  woman  in  Holy  Matrimouy.”  “He’s 
got  the  wrong  place,”  she  whispered 
loudly.  "He’s  made  a  mistake.”  A  good 
old  deacon,  a  trifle  deaf,  sat  over  in  the 
corner.  II.*  had  heard  a  few  sounds  from 
the  other  room.  “What’s  he  saying? 
What’s  he  saying?”  lie  asked  with  his 
hand  to  his  ear.  "He's  reading  the  wed¬ 
ding  service,”  was  answered.  With  the 
ceremony  well  under  way,  the  Pastoral 
Parson  glanced  out  into  the  kitchen.  1 1  is 
eyes  lighted  upon  the  undertaker!  He 
was  clearly  nervous.  He  thought  lie  had 
come  t<>  a  funeral,  but  if  he  was  to  be¬ 
lieve  his  eyes  and  ears  he  was  at  a  wed¬ 
ding!  The  storm  was  increasing,  and  he 
was  a  good  10  miles  from  home.  He 
looked  at  the  hearse,  at  the  casket  and 
then  at  the  wedding,  then  at  me  with  a 
look  I  shall  never  forget.  To  him,  the 
affair  soemed  to  lack  harmony!  Once 
I  thought  1  saw  him  reaching  for  his 
hat !  After  the  wedding  I  swung  around 
to  the  parlor  and  went  ahead  with  the 
rest  of  the  program.  Handkerchiefs  that 
had  been  temporarily  pocketed  were 
again  in  evidence.  Just  as  we  were 
leaving  the  house  I  heard  a  baby  cry 
somewhere  upstairs,  and  have  been  sorry 
tize  it  and  thus  put  in  a  full  and  com¬ 
plete  day ! 
A  Twilight  Wedding. — One  day  the 
Pastoral  Parson  got  word  that  he  was 
wanted  down  at  the  church  for  a  wed¬ 
ding  to  be  at  five  p.  m.  sharp.  Especial 
emphasis  was  laid  on  the  fact  that  I 
must  be  there  at  five  o’clock.  It.  was  in 
the  Summer  and  the  days  were  long.  I 
got  there  right  on  the  hour,  but  there 
was  not  a  soul  there.  After  about  half 
an  hour  a  few  people  came,  then  some 
relatives  of  the  bride  and  groom  -but  no 
bride  or  groom.  It  got  to  be  six  o'clock, 
half-past,  and  then  seven.  The  last  seen 
of  the  couple  was  when  they  started  for 
the  town  clerk.  Now  there  has  not  been 
an  evening  service  in  this  church  for 
years,  and  while  there  were  plenty  of 
lamps,  they  were  in  no  condition  to  give 
light.  One  woman  went  home  for  a  lan¬ 
tern.  I  poured  out  half  the  oil  into  a 
lamp  and  placed  it  near  the  altar.  The 
bride  and  groom  arrived  at  about  eight. 
While  no  doubt  it  was  a  happy  wedding 
it  could  not  be  called  brilliant.  I  held 
a  sputtering  smoking  lamp  in  one  hand 
and  the  prayer  book  in  the  other.  When 
it  came  to  the  ring  1  bad  to  put  the 
lamp  down  for  a  while  till  I  got  it  on. 
1  could  just  distinguish  the  heads  of  the 
people  in  the  pews.  Two  large  dogs  were 
moving  about  iu  the  shadows.  This  wed¬ 
ding  turned  out  very  happily,  however, 
much  more  so  than  many  a  costly  one. 
The  Bishop's  Dinner.-  -One  day  the 
T'aslmal  Raison  got.  word  from  the  bishop 
that  he  would  be  down  the  following  Fri¬ 
day  for  a  visitation.  lie  would  come  in 
the  morning  and  they  would  drive  down 
and  have  dinner  in  the  parish  room  iu 
the  front  part  of  the  church.  Now  the 
l'arson  went  a-fishing  that  week,  and 
among  other  things  he  bagged  a  fine  large 
snapping  turtle.  “What  could  be  choicer 
for  the  bishop,”  said  he  to  himself,  “than 
a  fine  turtle  soup?”  So  the  Parson 
dressed  the  turtle  and  made  the  soup  in 
-the  most  approved  style.  It  rode  down 
with  the  bishop  in  a  six-quart  can.  Most 
of  it  was  deposited  on  the  stove  to  get 
hot  and  the  euu  with  about  a  pint  in  it 
put  on  the  floor.  Everything  seemed  to 
go  wrong  during  that  service.  The  ba¬ 
bies  all  cried  and  tin*  young  children  ran 
about  the  aisles.  As  usual  iu  the  coun¬ 
try,  there  were  several  (logs  around. 
What  could  be  nicer  for  a  dog’s  hunger 
during  a  bishop’s  sermon  than  turtle 
soup?  A  black-and-t.m  thrust  his  head 
boldly  into  the  can.  His  head  went  in — 
and  there  it  stuck!  A  fearful  hanging 
up  and  down,  and  in  rushed  the  dog,  the 
can  over  his  head,  making  down  the  aisle 
straight  for  the  preaching  bishop.  Sev¬ 
eral  dashed  out  from  the  pews  and  the 
dog  was  turned  round  and  headed  back 
again.  Was  there  excitement?  But  the 
bishop  was  game,  soon  regained  his  com¬ 
posure  and  had  a  great  appetite  for  that 
soup  at  the  dinner  table. 
Planting  Corn.  On  reading  in  the 
Pastoral  Parson’s  article  about  the  man 
who  advised  planting  cracked  corn,  a 
clergyman  friend  of  mine  told  me  of  a 
ease  of  farm  wisdom  that,  came  under 
his  experience.  A  newcomer  came  over 
one  day  to  gel  a  peck  of  seed  corn  on  the 
cob.  Soon  he  came  after  another  peck 
and  in  a  short  time  over  he  came  for  an¬ 
other.  “I  had  no  idea  you  were  putting 
iu  sueli  a  big  field  of  corn,”  In*  said  to  his 
new  neighbor,  "Aren't  you  planting  it  a 
little  thick?”  “Oh,  no,”  said  he,  “I  uev- 
er  put  but  one  ear  in  a  hill.  I  take  a 
crowbar,  make  a  hole  in  the  ground,  jam 
down  an  ear  and  cover  it  over." 
No  Feed  Bill. — It  seems  queer  to 
come  out  from  town  with  an  empty 
wagon — no  bag  of  feed.  And  it  seems 
mighty  good.  It  has  taken  three  years  to 
come  to  it.  There  is  no  commercial  grain 
on  this  farm  and  there  is  not  likely  to  be 
August  19,  1910. 
for  some  time.  There  is  old  corn  in  the 
crib  and  a  bumper  crop  of  oats  and  some 
wheat  in  the  barn.  The  hens  have  just 
finished  the  wheat  scatterings  and  now 
will  he  working  on  the  oat  scatterings  for 
some  time.  They  have  plenty  of  skim- 
milk  and  the  run  of  the  barn  and  most 
of  the  farm.  IIow  they  do  sing  and  lay ! 
One  boy  has  just  come  running  over  with 
eyes  like  saucers  to  tell  me  that,  he  has 
found  a  new  nest  with  27  eggR.  They 
have  the  eggs  iu  the  new  nests,  and  the 
other  day  they  counted  out  four  dozen 
for  me  and  seven  for  themselves.  Those 
were  not  all  laid  in  one  day.  We  have 
about  SO  bens.  They  do  their  own 
thrashing  and  corn  shelling.  Why  should 
I  do  it,  when  they  have  plenty  of  time 
and  enjoy  it  so?  The  oats  are  full  of 
tender  clover,  in  some  places  it  stood 
most  as  high  as  tin*  oats  themselves,  and 
the  most  elovery  bundles  will  be  saved  to 
go  into  the  hens  whole.  What  a  break¬ 
fast.  for  a  cold  Winter  morning!  We 
took  just  as  much  pains  with  the  oat 
straw  as  we  would  with  the  choicest 
clover  hay.  cutting  the  oats  when  about 
just  all  out  of  the  milk.  The  eows  will  get 
this  straw  aud  c  lover  hay  and  silage  next 
Winter,  and  if  they  won’t  give  milk  on 
that  they  will  go  to  butcher  in  due  time, 
and  growing  young  stock  take  their  room, 
with  only  enough  milk  for  ourselves. 
Corn  here  is  two  dollars  a  hundred  now. 
Going  Fishing. — The  boys  have 
helped  well — especially  about  the  oats 
where  the  bundles  make  it  easy  to  handle 
tbi*m.  The  haying  is  all  done  and  sec¬ 
ond  crop  of  clover,  though  in  full  blos¬ 
som,  will  easily  wait  till  next  week.  So 
this  afternoon  we  are  going  fishing  -off 
to  a  pond.  We  shall  take  our  supper  and 
not  get  home  till  dark.  How  many  boys 
have  been  told  of  tin*  after-baying  fish¬ 
ing  trip  and  how  many  really  ever  go! 
Caring  for  John  E.  Smith’s  Wife 
I  belong  to  a  womau’s  club.  On  one 
occasion  we  were  to  respond  to  roll  call 
by  giving  our  favorite  economy.  One  told 
of  the  way  she  used  wornout  stockings, 
another  of  her  way  of  saving  on  maga¬ 
zine  subscriptions.  One  and  another 
told  how  they  saved  here  and  there.  Fin¬ 
ally  Mrs.  John  Smith’s  name  was  called. 
Mrs.  Smith  arose  and  said  :  “I’ve  heard 
good  women  are  scarce;  since  then  I’ve 
been  mighty  economical  of  John  E. 
Smith’s  wife.”  I  thought  then,  and  still 
think,  there  was  great  wisdom  in  her 
economy.  So  many  women  are  careful 
and  economical  in  everything  except  the 
most  important  piece  of  household  equip¬ 
ment — the  house-mother,  herself.  It 
seems  to  me  farm  women  as  a  class  are 
so  self-sacrificing,  so  eager  to  be  helpful 
to  the  farmer,  and  to  be  nil  things  to 
their  children,  they  are  very  apt  to  go  to 
the  extreme  of  being  extravagant  of 
themselves. 
I  think  and  know  that  from  the  point 
of  efficiency  it  pays,  and  pays  Well,  to 
take  good  care  of  one’s  body.  The  farm 
women  have  so  many  calls  upon  their 
time  and  skill  that  really  they  frequently 
neglect  themselves  sadly.  It  pays  to 
take  good  care  of  the  feet,  those  import¬ 
ant  feet.  Nothing  adds  more  to  one’s 
comfort  than  easy  shoes  that  fit  well, 
well-fitting  stockings,  with  no  holes  or 
bulky  clumsy  darns.  Darns  need  not  be 
uncomfortable.  Keeping  callous  spots 
well  trimmed  and  the  nails  well  cured  for 
adds  to  the  use  of  these  important  mem¬ 
bers.  More  than  once  I  have  seen  wom¬ 
en  wearing  rundown  and  run-over  shoes. 
This  throws  tin*  whole  body  out  of  plumb 
and  makes  walking  a  torture.  It  costs 
but  a  few  cents  to  have  heels  straight¬ 
ened.  When  one’s  feet  are  well  attended 
to  work  seems  easier. 
I  think  it  is  a  good  plan  for  a  woman 
who  is  busy  all  day  to  have  a  little  time 
all  by  herself,  all  alone,  iu  peace  and 
quiet.  Sometimes  the  family  is  large, 
the  house  not  very  big.  aud  there  is  more 
or  less  noise  and  confusion  all  day  long. 
It  rests  one  wonderfully  to  sit  alone  a 
few  moments  before  going  to  bed.  When 
the  house  is  still,  one  can  rest  mind  as 
well  as  body  by  being  all  alone.  Another 
thing,  and  above  all,  don’t  worry.  I  have 
yet  to  see  the  case  where  fretting  and 
worrying  ever  helped.  A  woman  once 
said  to  me:  “There  are  only  two  things  I 
will  allow  myself  to  worry  over,  the 
health  and  morals  of  my  family.”  If 
one  could  take  the  energy  that  is  wasted 
in  worrying  and  turn  it  to  some  practical 
use,  what  loads  could  be  lifted,  what 
help  could  he  given  !  Of  course  there  is 
much  anxiety  that  cannot  be  helped,  but 
the  needless  worrying  and  fretting  many 
women  indulge  in  is  what  does  much 
harm.  What  if  the  house  isn’t  spotless, 
■  or  the  bread  not  as  fine  as  it  should  be? 
Instead  of  worrying  about  it  why  not 
bend  your  energies  to  finding  out  what 
the  trouble  was,  and  iu  hoping  for  better 
luck  next  time?  farm  woman. 
