1900 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
137 
One Side of the Argument. 
HOW A QUESTION OF TIME STIRRED TWO 
CONGREGATIONS. 
“I swan, I dunuo know how some 
folks git along, havin’ as little sense as 
they do an’ squanderin’ that mostly in 
quarrelin’ with other people because 
they don’t agree with them in doctrine. 
No, I thank you; I’ll just keep my shawl 
on, ’cause we’re makin’ soap to our 
house to-day an’ I must hurry home. 
I’m that full of all this row be¬ 
tween the Baptists an’ the Metho¬ 
dists that I just had to run in 
an’ tell you about it. I’m no 
spreader of evil stories an’ such, an’ 
every one in the neighborhood knows 
that I mind my own business first, last 
an’ all the time. Guess if I didn’t, we 
wouldn’t have a roof over our heads, 
John Henry being natcherly shiftless, 
which he gits from his mother’s folks, 
the Wigginses. They ain’t my kind of 
people an’ never was. About the Bap¬ 
tists an’ Methodists? I’m that full of it 
I dunno know where to begin. When 
the Baptists moved into their church 
they engaged Mr. Bass. He may be a 
sincere man, but somehow I misdoubted 
him from the first. 
“ ‘John Henry,’ said I, when I see Mr. 
Bass with his side whiskers, “I never 
knew no good of a man with side whis¬ 
kers yet. The Lord never intended a 
man to drape the sides of his face in 
that fashion. You remember that light- 
nin’ rod agent, that nearly put a mort¬ 
gage on this roof that I’ve worked so 
hard for, had side whiskers? Now, the 
Baptists have gone an’ hired a minister 
with side whiskers, an’ I’ll lose my 
guess if he didn’t put some queer no¬ 
tions into their heads.’ 
“The Wigginses were all Baptists, 
you know, an’ John Henry has always 
bad a leanin’ that way. He would have 
flopped many a time if I hadn’t shamed 
him out of it. He jess smiled in that 
aggravatin’ way some men folks has, 
an’ he said: 
“ ‘Cynthia, says he, ‘it isn’t the coat 
that makes the man nor the whiskers, 
either.’ 
“ ‘The Wigginses always had a 
nasty way of ending an argument by 
quotin’ Scripture an’ John Henry he 
took after them. 
“ ‘You just wait an’ see,’ says I, 
knowin’ as I was right. 
“I’m surprised you ain’t heard of what 
Mr. Bass preached about on New Year’s 
Day. You are sure no one ain’t told 
you? Well, then, he got up in the new¬ 
fangled pulpit of his new church an’ he 
told his congregation that they was in 
the first year of the twentieth century. 
Now, would you believe it, there wasn’t 
a man in that church that had spunk 
enough to git up an’ protest. Goodness 
knows, our time here below is short 
enough an’ you would think even a Bap¬ 
tist would hate to be hauled into a new 
century ahead of time. My bed ain’t 
always one of roses, what with John 
Henry’s shiftlessness an’ his family re¬ 
lations, but I don’t complain to such 
an extent that I want my time short¬ 
ened. I want some preparation for the 
twentieth century an’ I want full meas¬ 
ure for the nineteenth century. Well, 
now, that Mr. Bass he just bamboozled 
his whole congregation into believin’ 
they was in the twentieth century an’ I 
tell you it ought to be a solemn thought 
for some of them now, not that I am 
throwin’ any stones at brother sinners. 
Our minister, he preached on our en¬ 
terin’ the last year of the old century an’ 
he aigued that we ought to make it 
count for ourselves ah’ for the church. 
It was a real stirrin’ discourse, ’thout 
ary fol-de-rol nonsense an’ I tell you I 
felt good an’ hungry for our New Year 
turkey when I came out o/ the church. 
The first person I see as I came out was 
Mis’ Wiggins a swishin’ her way down 
the street an’ I says to her: 
“ ‘Happy New Year, Mis’ Wiggins,’ 
just like that. 
“ ‘Happy New Century, Cynthia,’ says 
she in a way that showed she thought 
she had the better. 
“ ‘You’re a year too soon, Mis’ Wig¬ 
gins,’ says I. 
’’ ‘Not at all,’ says she, in that citified 
way she picked up when she was in 
N’York three years ago Christmas. 
“ ‘Then Mis’ Wiggins, she up an’ told 
me that Mr. Bass had said we were in 
the twentieth century. 
“ ‘You wouldn’t doubt a minister’s 
word, would you?’ says she. 
“ ‘Not if he was a Methodist,’ said I. 
‘Our minister said he was in the last 
year of the nineteenth century, an’ I 
guess he knows a thing or two.’ 
“ ‘He’s a good man, probably,’ says 
Mis’ Wiggins, superior like, ‘but he's be¬ 
hind the times, Cynthia. I do wish you 
would sit under Mr. Bass.’ 
“ ‘No, I thank you,’ said I. ‘No Bap¬ 
tist for me. Methodist is good enough.’ 
“Now would you believe it, all those 
Baptist people say that they are in the 
twentieth century, an’ all us Methodists 
say we are in the nineteenth century, 
an’ when Baptist meets Methodist, they 
begin to arguefy, as if the thing wasn’t 
as plain as the nose on Cy Wiggins’s 
face, poor man. I says only this morn- 
in,’ says I, to John Henry: 
“ ‘Do you recall that I took objection 
to Mr. Bass’s side whiskers, John Henry, 
an’ now see how he has led his flock 
astray. Amos Skillings ain’t been able 
to do a stroke of work since New Year’s, 
he’s so busy trying to persuade Metho¬ 
dists that they’re in the twentieth cen¬ 
tury, an’ his woodpile down so that 1 
don’t know how Mis’ Skillings will get 
through the Winter.’ 
“ ‘What difference does it make?’ says 
John Henry in his shiftless way. 
“ ‘It don’t make enny in partic’lar,’ 
says I, ‘only I wonder at people havin’ 
so little sense. Can a man add one inch 
to his height by thinkin’ about it, faith 
cure to the contrary notwithstanding 
No, sir, an’ he can’t add a year to the 
century, nuther.’ 
“Well, you’d be surprised how that 
discussion has harmed this neighbor¬ 
hood. The Baptists, when they are cor¬ 
nered, as they are bound to be, just say 
the Methodists are slow an’ behind the 
times, an’ such. I’ve been gittin’ dry 
groceries now for twenty year of John 
Butterworth, though he is a Baptist, but 
T stopped. When I went in for 10 cents’ 
worth of cloves for those muskmelon 
pickles of mine, which I season again 
in February, Mr. Butterworth he says: 
“ ‘Well, Cynthia, I hope the new cen¬ 
tury finds you well.’ 
“ ‘The new century ain’t found me 
yet,’ says I. 
“ ‘That’s so; you are a Methodist,’ 
says he. 
“ ‘Yes,’ says I, ’an’ I am thankful that 
I have some sense,’ says I. ‘If this is 
the twentieth century then I only owe 
you nine cents for them cloves. Your 
bein’ a year ahead of me in reckonin’ 
time is likely to complicate my tradin’ 
here. You see I’d have to pay you a 
year in advance of my buyin’ anythin’ 
an’ as times are I can’t do it. I’ll have 
to find some grocery merchant in my 
century,’ says I, an’ with that I wished 
him good mornin’ an’ out I walked. 
Mis’ Wiggins, she’s been around twice 
to discuss twentieth century, an’ I laid 
her out flat each time. I just chalked 
out the first century from the year one 
to 99 on my Sally’s little blackboard 
an’ 1 went over it year by year with 
Mis’ Wiggins an’ when I got to 99 I says 
‘this belongs to the first century, don’t 
it?’ an’ she says, right off, ‘Yes.’ ‘Then,’ 
says I, ‘don’t 1899 belong to the nine¬ 
teenth century?’ ‘Yes,’ says she. Then 
I got her to admit that the whole year 
100 belonged to the first century, but 
she baulked at the year 1900 belongin’ 
MOTHERS.—Be sure to use “Mrs. Wins¬ 
low’s Soothing Syrup” for your children 
while Teething. It is the Best.— Adv. 
to the nineteenth century, an’ then 
came the partin’ of our ways. The Bap¬ 
tists and the Methodists are that torn up 
about it that most of one congregation 
don’t speak to most of the other. I 
ain’t got no time for these previous folks 
’specially when they ain’t got no sense 
an’ I was sayin’ as much to Mis’ Wig¬ 
gins when she took offense an’ flounced 
out. 
“Though John Henry was one of the 
Wigginses on his mother’s side, he’s 
natcherly so shiftless that he wouldn’t 
move into a new century until the 
almanac rushed him, so my family ain’t 
divided; but laws alive! the Methodists 
bein’ in one century an’ the Baptists in 
another will prevent any union meet- 
in’s, which have oeen so fruitful in the 
past. But, as I said to John Henry, I 
suspicioned those side whiskers of Mr. 
Bass’s the minute I see them an’ it looks 
as if we’d have to jolt along a year be¬ 
hind the Baptists. The amount of gos¬ 
sipping there is about this thing is 
enough to sicken you of women folks, 
though some of the men is just as bad. 
No, thank you, I’m just goin’ now to 
finish up a batch of end-of-the-century 
soap. It must be real annoyin’ to Mis’ 
Wiggins not to be fin der seeckle, which 
she picked up in N’York three years ago 
Christmas. She said it was fashionoble 
French for end-of-the-century. It’s all 
the French she knows, poor thing, an’ 
now she’s got to drop it or be ungram¬ 
matical, an’ she just despises bein’ un- 
grammical. Well, we all have our 
troubles.”—New York Sun. 
“The highest culture speaks no ill. 
The best reformer is the man whose eyes 
Are quick to see all beauty and all worth, 
And by his own discreet, well-ordered life 
Alone reproves the erring. 
When thy gaze 
I urns in on thine own self, be most severe: 
But when it falls on fellow man, 
Let kindliness control it, and refrain 
From that belittling censure which springs 
forth 
I' rom common lips like weeds from marshy 
soil.” 
... . When a young man is looking for a 
position he should not seek the one 
which will at first offer him the best 
salary, but should choose an occupation 
to which he would be willing to devote 
his entire life, and then work his way 
up, accepting what he is offered. There 
is nothing gained by jumping from one 
thing to another and working a few 
months or a year here and there.—Sat¬ 
urday Evening Post. 
... .No one may speak about the love of 
Nature as a sentimental fancy, for in¬ 
deed one who does not love the country 
and is only at home in the city ought to 
be alarmed about his state of soul. 
When one wearies in a garden, but 
wakes to life in an office, he is not as 
God made him, and it is not merely that 
he has lost his sense of duty, but, more 
or less, other things still valuable—his 
faith in God, his hope of immortality, 
his love of man, his heritage of spiritual 
feeling—which make up the soul. When 
one would rather read a book of theol¬ 
ogy, or, for that matter, a book of 
science, than see a sunset, he is not as 
Jesus was Himself, or would have him 
be. He has become the slave of ideas, 
and is losing his hold on life; he is 
growing to be a pedant, and ceasing to 
be a man.—Ian Maclaren. 
BURPEE’S 
Seeds Grow! 
Seven Superb \\ ^ 
SWEET PEAS for ZD CtS. 
Our Grand New Collection for ipoo con¬ 
tains a regular-size packet (generally from 40 to 
70 seeds) each of all these finest Novelties : 
SADIE BURPEE. See illustration. Eckford’s 
new hooded “ Buttonhole White,”—surpass¬ 
ing even his famous Blanche Burpee. Both 
black- and white-seeded,—two packets in one. 
NAVY BLUE. Theonly “ true blue.” Thou¬ 
sands of packets sold last year at 12 seeds for 
25 cts. Large ilowers of an entirely new color. 
HON. F. BOUVERIE. New “deep-pink 
Venus," which sold last year at 65 cents for 
20 seeds. 
BURPEE’S ‘‘GORGEOUS.” The most bril¬ 
liant of all; intensely rich orange-salmon. 
BURPEE’S “FASHION.” A beautiful self 
color,—between reddish mauve and carmine. 
“ EARLIEST OF ALL.” Best of all “pink and 
white; ” two weeks earlier than any other. 
All the above, painted from nature, ^ 
are shown in our New Catalogue. 
BURPEE’S BEST MIXED FOR 1900 . A large 
packet of all the most recent Novelties in 
Giant-flowered Sweet Peas, grown separately. 
Thp«;p Qpvpn superb sweet 
1 IlC&e OCVCII PEAS, for same C|itan- 
tityof seed, would have cost three dollars 
loir'now’lJ? only 25 cents. 
In each collection we enclose our new 
leaflet “ How to Grow Largest and Finest 
Sweet Peas." 
New Nasturtiums. 
Pni* c we will mail our 
TUI CCIIL5> Showy Collection 
of Seven. It contains a full-size packet each of 
our beautiful new giant-flowered "Sunlight" 
and “ Moonlight," — the curious tall French 
Chameleon ,—the fascinating new Dwarf Lili- 
put, —one-half ounce of the showy Madame 
Gunter Hybrids, —one-half ounce Burpee’s Gor¬ 
geous New Tom Thumb Mixed, and a liberal 
half-ounce of Fordhook Favorite Climbing Nas¬ 
turtiums. With each order we send our new 
leaflet on Culture. 
we will mail Both 
collections and 
give as a premium a 15 -cent packet of the Unique 
Burpee’s Bush Sweet Pea,— the new race. 
Order one or both collections, 
mention this paper, and we 
will send, FREE, a regular packet of 
“ Snapdragon Sweet Pea 
remarkable Novelty for 1900 ,—never before 
introduced. Flowers white flushed with pink, 
borne in clusters of three upon stout stems. It 
is a great curiosity and of powerful fragrance. 
Burpee’s Farm Annual 
Written at FORDHOOK FARMS—the largest 
trial grounds in America. Tells about all the 
BEST SEEDS THAT GROW, including some 
valuable “NEW CREATIONS” for 1900. 
Liberal Cash Prizes. Useful Leaflets and New 
Vest-Pocket Guides to success, free to all customers. 
The National Prize Garden (in Michigan), 
that won seven hundred and fifty dollars cash 
prizes in the great Ametdean Agriculturist con¬ 
test,was planted exclusively with BURPEE’S 
SEEDS, which are always The Best That 
Grow 1 PHf Every one who would grow 
choice vegetables or most beautiful flowers 
should carefully study 
“The Leading American Seed Catalogue.” 
Write TO-DAY. It is FREE I 
W. ATLEE BURPEE & CO., Philadelphia. 
For 50 cents 
FREE 
Housework is had work without Gold Dusfi 
Washing Willow Furniture and 
Wicker Chairs 
Wicker chairs soon become soiled, but they I 
can be cleaned to look like new with 
Gold Dust Washing Powder 
I and warm water. Use a scrubbing brush; when j 
water becomes the least soiled, get fresh; follow | 
1 with a soft, dry cheese cloth, and wipe dry 
j White Iron beds can also be washed by this j 
I method, but must be wiped dry quickly. 
Tho abovo is taken from our free booklet 
It, . "0°t-Dty RULES FOR HOUSEWORK" 
I bant freo on request to 
THE N. K. FAIR BANK COMPANY. 
Chicago, St. Louis, New York, Boston. 
