t{2 
TShc RURAL NEW-YORKER 
January 20, 1917. 
The Pastoral Parson on the Lonely Road 
Down County Trips at Christmas Time 
rtoTTGH Weatiiek. —“You certainly 
aren't going to strike out this fearful 
afternoon. You never can get there in 
th(‘ world such a day as this.” Thus 
spake Mrs. Pastoral Parson as she 
looked out of the window on the fore- 
inion of Saturday, Dec. 10. It cei'tain- 
ly was a terrible day—a biting hurri¬ 
cane wind and the snow drifting badly. 
I doubted myself if anyone would ex- 
j)ect me. And when I looked at the 
drifts piling higher and higher, I cer¬ 
tainly hoped the fool-killer would not 
be out that afternoon. Yet there were 
sjtecial rea.sons why the Pastoral Par¬ 
son ought to go down that afternoon. 
He had helped a young fellow get a 
job for the lYinter in town, and he must 
be on hand Monday morning. lie had 
an order for wreaths that must be filled 
AVednesday, and he could bring them 
back. The little woman on the Peodeu 
Place farm had twice told him she had 
to .sell two head of stock right away. So 
he started out, with light cxi)ress wagon 
and fdd Doll. 
The P.noKEX Leg.—I t certainly was 
hard going; the axle often dragging in 
the drifts, and the windward side of the 
horse white with snow. Put at last we 
jiulled uj) at the Peeden IMace. .lust be¬ 
fore getting there I saw in the snow 
where the little boys had been pushing 
the snow away in the woods and get¬ 
ting running pine for wreaths. The lit¬ 
tle woman was hurrying as fast as she 
could to get this in shape in the kitchen, 
and in the next room was the man with 
his broken leg. propped ui) in bed, doing 
the best he could with his stiff man’s 
lingers to wind wreaths at lU cents 
apiece. He reached up on the wall and 
handed me the doctor's bill to date, 
.$120. Sometime .soon, the i)arson will 
have something to say about the doctor 
on the Lonely Road, but now we must 
go and look at that stock. 
Too Mrcii Stock. — It was a case of 
too much stock for the size of the mow, 
and two mu.st be sold. So far out on the 
lunelie.st of all Lonely Roads, practically 
no one came to buy. One man had of¬ 
fered her $.")() for two head, but she 
wanted $.o.‘l. Could the P.arson help 
her'.'' Of course he must—that is what 
he lives for. “Take them right up to 
my barn as soon as you plea.se, and I 
will sell them.” So in the bitter cold 
of Monday morning this little woman 
and the little boy took the two head of 
stock and led them through the drifts to 
the Parson’s i)lace. and without even 
stopping for a cui) of tea turned right 
round and walked back again—10 of the 
longest miles yt>u ever travelled. Put 
she got her price for the stock right 
away. 
A Douhle-yoeker. —The next stop is 
foui' miles beyond, and it is now dark. 
Old Doll goes into the barn for her sup- 
lier and the Par.son chats by the open 
lireplacc as the back-to-the-landers tell 
how things are going. “You see that 
egg with two yolks.” says the good wom¬ 
an as .she breaks it into the frying pan 
for the Parson’s supiier. “One of my 
pullets has laid 10 eggs in the last 10 
days, and three of tho.se 10 were double- 
yolkers.” Not so bad for a pullet, was 
it't And that egg tasted great too. The 
Par.son was hungry, and took the liberty 
to top off the meal with just a half of a 
good thick New England apple pie. 
There was much to talk about. One boy 
who left New York seven years ago was 
going down for a two-weeks’ visit, and 
though the wood was not yet sawed, the 
Par.son prevailed ui)on them to have him 
return with him tomorrow and get off 
in good time for the holidays. The 
greens too would be brought down to 
church tomorrow and brought back with 
the 1‘arson’s team. 
Breaking of Pie. —Speaking of that 
apple pie reminds of what a long 
native down at a schoolhouse .social was 
telling me the other night with all 
straightforwardness and simplicity. I 
expressed surprise at his not taking a 
cup of coffee. “I’ve got a leetle heart¬ 
burn tonight, and guess I’ll go a little 
easy,” said he. ’Tho’ I will just take a 
sandwich and a piece of cake. You .see I 
got home tonight from work and the 
women folks had just set out some 
corkin’ thick pumpkin pies. They looked 
so pesky good I jes’ set down and ate 
one of ’em right on the sjiot. Then we 
had a pretty hearty supper and I topped 
off with just a half of another one of 
those pies!” So he had a little heart¬ 
burn ! 
The Last Stop. —In the early even¬ 
ing it was hitch up again and push on 
about two miles further. We were go¬ 
ing to have a party at the church that 
night, but no one was foolish enough to 
venture out in that weather. I deliv¬ 
ered 10 pounds of rice to a man, and 
after a good chat turned in for the night 
at a good old-fasliioned farmhou.se. “How 
much did it cost when your father broke 
his leg, years ago?” I asked, thinking of 
that Peeden Place man ’way up in the 
woods. “Oh, I dunno,” was the answer. 
“It was five dollars for setting, and this 
with visits and all may have been fif¬ 
teen or eighteen dollar.s.” 1 went to 
.sleep thinking of that bill for .$120 hang¬ 
ing on the wall away up there in the 
wood.s. and the number of wreaths at 
10 cents apiece it would take to pay it. 
Yes, we had a fine cheerful happy ser- 
is a country church warm in Winter?” 
Answer: “At just about the time you 
are ready to go home.” The Pastoral 
I’arson refuses to begin a service till the 
place is warm. Churches are cold enough 
at best, without having the thermometer 
’way down too. “What used to stand 
on that foundation?” I asked of a boy 
down in Lane District. “A church,” 
was the reply. “What became of it?” I 
asked. “They carried it off to the next 
town and made an ice-house of it.” 
“AVise man,” mused the Pastoral Par¬ 
son as he drove on. “He knew you could 
keep ice till the crack of judgment in a 
church.” 
Yes we bad a fine cheerful happy ser¬ 
vice, staying and talking over everything 
from the price of eggs to the prospects 
of peace. Then the start home. AVe 
took in the man who was going to work 
and the boy who was going to New 
A’ork, and the wreaths and some butter 
to deliver, and pushed out for another 
way home—seventeen miles! AA’e 
stopped once to leave .SO panes of glass 
to be put into an .abandoned church 
which after being closed six years we 
are going to ojien up and another time 
to get warm. 
Unknown' Friend.s. —AA’hen has the 
Pastoral Parson started off in a happier 
frame of mind than on this Christmas 
trip? The world and its people seemed 
good to him. During the week he went 
off to speak to a church club and men¬ 
tioned the man with the broken leg. 
Through a third party, that the donor’s 
name might not be known, he received 
twenty-five dollars for the man. As he 
was headed for town to get the candy 
and boxes and other things for his Lone¬ 
ly Road children he met the postman, 
and there was ten dollars from an un¬ 
known Rtrae New-A'orker friend. As 
he was getting out old Doll to start, the 
high school fellow who was to ride down 
with him brought out the m.ail, and if 
there wasn’t a fivc-dollar bill from a per¬ 
son who had heard him speak of the 
Lonely Road five years ago. Then I put 
in some fine warm clothing sent by some 
unknown friends from New York City 
and we were off. The I’astoral Parson 
takes this occasion to assure all these 
good people that their gifts caused much 
and lasting happiness. 
The Stop.s On The AA’ay. —AAAhat fun 
it was to stop at every house where there 
were children with a box of Christmas 
candy ! The large Christmas cards had 
not come, so they will be left at each 
house on the next trip. The man with 
the broken leg was sitting on the edge 
the bed trying in vain to use some crutch¬ 
es the Parson had got him. On the old 
kitchen table I counted out the twenty- 
live dollars and told them how it had 
come. Outside in the yard a boy stood 
with his eyes riveted on a beautiful new 
•sled sticking out from the hind end of 
the wagon. The Parson pulled it out 
and handed it to him. It was his. 
“.Toe,” said I as we jogged down 
through the brushwood, “did you see the 
look on that woman’s face as I counted 
out that money?” “I didn’t notice,” said 
he. “but I .saw the tears roll down that 
boy’s cheeks when you handed him that 
sled and told him it was his.” 
The Ciiristma.s Tree. —That after¬ 
noon we trimmed up the church till it 
looked like a grove of evergreens, and 
we had the old stove and at least two 
feet of the pipe red-hot. AA"e trimmed up 
the tree and in the evening the people 
and children came. AAHiat a good time 
we hhd! Games for the young, quad¬ 
rilles for the grown-ups. Santa came 
twice—first for a hurried call and then 
for a dance. The first time he had a 
crowbar for a cane—the second time a 
barrel stave. One woman and two girls 
had walked fully four miles each way to 
come. The party lingered late, and the 
Parson had fe.ars as to its effect on the 
morrow’s service. 
They All Came. —The old saying 
that plenty will go to a dance w'here few 
will go to a prayer meeting did not hold 
true the next day, as we had more at 
the service than at the Christmas tree. 
The Parson built the fire early and rang 
the old bell with all his might, to .show 
the country round that we were opened 
up for the day. It says to all: “Come 
whenever you can and stay as long as 
you can.” • Here there are no Sunday 
airs; no Sunday tones; no Sunday stiff¬ 
ness; but everything is happy and home¬ 
like. No one stalks into their pew as 
stiff as a ramrod and stalks out home 
with a rustle of silk skirts; but there is 
warmth of hearth and warmth of heart 
and home-like place for all.” AVe do 
not toll the bell, for there is nothing 
about our service that savors of a fun¬ 
eral. I wonder if New England tolls 
its bells jiLst at the lieginning of service 
as a token of wailing because so many 
have not yet showed up, nor are likely 
too! 
The Company Got There. —AA’lien the 
service was about half over the door 
quietly opened and a child came in, soon 
followed by another and another and 
another and so on. I recognized the 
first six as coming from one family and 
being on hand the night before, but the 
door did not close at that—three more 
coming in, making nine in all. These last 
proved to be company. The Parson en¬ 
quired the how and when of their com¬ 
ing. The man of this house works away 
in the city in the AA’^inter, as so many 
do, and two teams went in to the city 
Saturday afternoon to meet him and the 
company cousims. The train was late of 
cour.se, and then there was Christmas 
shopping and the work horses were .slow 
and their shoes smooth and the roads 
terribly icy. It was ten o’clock when 
the start for home was made. After 
the first six miles on. the turnpike the 
lonely road began with the slippery hills 
and the still cold night. The boys all 
took to their heels to warm up and foot¬ 
ed it the other six miles, and real coun¬ 
try miles they are! It was half past 
two when they pulled in—just four hours 
and a half on the road. The Pastoral 
I’arson excu.sed them for being late to 
church! 
After The Christmas Service. —I 
suppose the regular program of the coun¬ 
try church as any other calls for a Sun¬ 
day school after morning service. AA’hen 
the Pastoral Parson escaped from “reg¬ 
ular church work” to real Christian 
work, he escaped from the Sunday .school 
also. AA’e live in an era of combination 
and the church service and Sunday 
.school has been combined. Instruction 
i.s given and the children are talked to 
and the passages from Scripture ex¬ 
plained, and the children seem to grow 
up in the habit and desire of attending 
the morning .service. This is as it .should 
(Continued on page Sfi) 
A Working Dinner in the Cotton States 
One of the Pleasures of a Snowy Country 
