248 
Oic RURAL NEW-YORKER 
Pastoral Parson and His Country Folks 
By Rev. George B. Gilbert 
Litti.e Mazda. —Sitting on tlio stono 
stops of the church with a groui) of hoys, 
you will see in the picture our little dog 
Maida. The l‘ar.son writes this as a 
tribute to her memory, as she is 
no longer with use, only in memory. 
While she was not so very old, 10 years, 
yet she had showed hei- age much of late, 
and had not been well for some time. 
So. mercifully and quietly, we helped her 
to her long sleep. Her name has hardly 
i)een mentioned in the house since, as we 
c:innot yet hear to talk about her—we 
all loved her so. Her devotion to the 
r.irson w;is one of the most beautiful 
things I have ever seen. In some way 
as a pup|)y, peihai)s from setung the chil¬ 
dren do it. she formed the habit of junq)- 
ing up in his lap. putting her paws about 
his neck and rubbing her face .against 
his. 'I'his had to be gone through with 
at great length, whenever he came home, 
if he had th(> nerve to go oil' without her. 
and ofter after lying on tlx* couch with 
Ihu' eye.s upon him for a long tim<*. she 
would suddenly jump up in his lap and 
love him and love him and love him. 
A ('lose ('omi'A.mo.n. —For years she 
went with the rarson on his long trips. 
At first when he wcuit on .a wluad she 
would run ahead till toward night when 
she got tired and he would slack up and 
often walk with her. As I look b.ack 
upon it. 1 wonder how slu' ran so fai' 
with all the side lainning .and bils of 
hunting a dog will do. She loved to have 
a race on tlu'se long trips. 'I'he I’ai-son 
would shout. “A race! a r.ace I" .and olV 
slu' would scamper, always winning out, 
'rinai when he went with a horse, she 
would ride, for fear of the autos till we 
got to the back I’o.ad, wlum slu' would 
siuang out at once. 
At ('nnu'ii.-— She most generally wiait 
to church —two and three times a Sunday. 
She Would lie down ])y the .stove in back 
most always, coming down the aisle sev¬ 
eral times and up to .spe.ak to the l*ai-son 
and tlum back again. .She never made a 
noise or disturbance. Sonudimes, if there 
Imppened to be many in church and it 
worried her. she would come up and stay 
beside him .as he preaclx'd. In the .Sum¬ 
mer time it would not be so, as she would 
be barking ;it .sipiirrels out back of the 
church. 
She Dip.x’t («o.— Oix' Sunday the Par¬ 
son drove ov(‘r to another church to hold 
service. Mrs. Parsoti and the children 
w<‘re with him, and Maida stayed down 
in the pew with tlxun for .a while, but 
only for a whib*. as she must needs <-om<“ 
up front and spe.ak to the P,arson. .She 
stepped softly down, the main aish' .and 
.ai)proached the chaix-el. As she did so 
a^ wom.an on the .aisle ixairly went into a 
fit. ^niink of it! A dog in a church! 
M asn't that awful! She Hung Ix'rself 
.about and motioned the sexton to come 
immediately .and carry out that sacri¬ 
legious thing. He found a rojx' and <'ame 
down the aisle aftei- her. He put out his 
haixl to t.ake hold of the collar—but he 
(•hanged his mind. Due long, low growl 
and he went back a good (bail quicker 
than he came, and littb- ^laidii ])layed 
b(tth ac(dyte and cunite the rest of the 
meeting. 
Another Time. —After this servicf* one 
of the choir was telling the I'arson about 
how the minister who had recently left 
the church felt toward animals. One time 
during choir rehearsal he hapi>ene(l to 
gljince tow.-ird the i)ulpit and a i)oor. f(U-- 
lorn, dejected, honxdess little kitten had 
wandered into the building aixl w:is 
•seated on the chancel stejis. He spr:ing 
into the air-as though it wei-e :i rattb'- 
sn;ike. He cl:ipp<»(l his hands ,‘11x1 
stamped and shout<‘d -to it to cle.-ir out. 
He chased it cleiir to the sidewalk and 
retiiined with ji look of triumi)h. as one 
who had vindicated the holiness of the 
house of (Jud. 
Aew.ay.s Lookixc. —VVihen the P;irson 
was awa.v. little Mjiida Wiis alwa.vs look¬ 
ing for him to return. At such times she 
would, make much of ^loms, following 
her around the house. Once in a great 
while .she would jump up into her laj) and 
lov<‘ hei’. but this most s<*ldom, only when 
six* was so lonesome she could st.-ind it 
no loiigei-. “l*opsy is coming on the next 
cai’.” Moms would say in a low voice 
after the Par.son had ’phoned-,from town. 
She would first dash to the, window to see 
if he wei-e in the yard, then out tlx> door 
and away to the bai-n jind wait on the 
bridge at the foot of the .hill. The first 
sound of his whi.stle brought her dashing 
up the road to meet him, and there, under 
the dead chestnut by the barway. was our 
trysting i)Iace-—where she would lov*' liim 
and scold aixl scold becau.se he had gone 
off without Ix'r. 
She Knew Them. —One time when we 
lived over in town, the Par.son sent his 
grips out on the car ami the conductor 
set them off at the crossing just above the 
house. Moms missed her, and casting 
about she soon saw her over by those 
biigs having a regular fit. She was 
sniffing them and prancing round them 
ami squealing in great shape. Then oft' 
she scampered to the house to tell Moms 
about it and then back again to stay be¬ 
side the bags till the Parson stepped off 
the car arid found her there. 
time the I’ar- 
stable on his 
team to go 
wheel, 
suade 
mim't(*. 
knew I 
S:' E 
Dog and P.icyci.e. —One 
son Avent into the livery 
wheel and there procured 
off on his trip. Maida went in with him, 
iind he suiii)Osed she followed out with 
him. running behind the carriage. AMien 
out a Avay, however, he found she had not 
come. (Jn going back to the .stable next 
da.v he found Ix'r tlxu'*', right beside the 
’Fix* men said nothing Avould fier- 
her to leave the wheel for a 
eithei' for fixsl or drink. She 
would be back for the Avheel. 
Entered the Choir.— One time 
the Parson jind Maida <-ame into the liv¬ 
ery stable with the team on Sunday even¬ 
ing and started to walk home. At that 
time Mrs. Par.son was singing in the 
quai'tette of one of the <-ity cliurches. As 
we Aviit by we saw fh:it tlx“ church Avas 
not out yet. and .so 1 gave Maida to un- 
dtu-stand six' was to s'.t.-iy outside Avhile I 
went in. But sonx> usher opened the door 
ami in she slipix-d. .^he had no trouble 
in fiixling the Parson, ami 1 took her Aip 
on the s(*at beside nx*. .lust tlx'ii the last 
hymn Avas announced. F|i Avent her ears 
in a second. She sli|)ped down from the 
scat ami started down the ai.sle. sni.fiing 
tlx' air iind looking iill around. ’J'avo 
iislx'i-s darted after her, but to jx) us<'. 
She made sti-aight fi.r the choir loft back 
of the pulidt. and there fouml Mi-s. Par¬ 
son, Avho had sung only in company Avith 
the others. 
Dog i.\ Bed. —I suppose' it is terrible 
to have even a simill, clean short-haii'ed 
in town a little after six and took him out 
to his house. I say house purposely, as 
there is a great difference between a 
house and a home. He asked us to .step 
inside and he Avould shoAv us about the 
place—a veritable palace. Of course the 
door Avas locked and the man had not 
thought to bring his key. so he had a 
teriible time to get in at all. No one 
ansAvered the bell. At last, by merest 
chance, his groAvn-up daughter hapix'iied 
to pa.s-s that Avay and opened the door. 
As the Parson remembers it she did not 
even have a hello for her father, but im¬ 
mediately jtassed on upstairs, far out of 
sight ami hearing. He shoAved us round— 
how graml it Avas and hoAV holloAV and 
how still. We Avent into the dining room, 
there wei e floAvers on the table. The Par¬ 
son sniffed f<»r creamed codfish and baked 
potatix's. but no oddr of food of any kind 
seemed to come uj) the basement stair¬ 
way. 
A Wei.come.—W e Avere shown out and 
the big brass lock snapped lomlly behind 
us. As Ave turned the old car toward 
home Ave looked back at the house—hoAV 
big and stiff and cold it look('d ! No sign 
of life in sight—oven the blackbirds kucAV 
their jdace and k<“i)t Ix'hind the house. 
Soon we approached home. The little 
black dog could al\A'ays tell the sound of 
that old motor Ix'forc she could CA'en see 
it, and she It'd the jn’ocession coming 
out to meet us. As the 1‘arson settled 
down that night he musx'd to himself hoAV 
many there Avere that came out to meet 
the home-comers. One dog, three boys, 
one girl, two groAvn-ups, three, geese (old 
.Terry! the gander, yelling fearfully), tAA'o 
cats, and at least (»0 hens. And having 
f<'d tho.se s:iucy hens and hurled .a couple 
of corncobs at tb.jit impudent gander. Ave 
found a steaming hot supi)er calling to us 
from the tiible, !ind Ave all fell to and 
Avere content. “Hoav wotild you like to 
February 10, lOlS 
even extends out of the d(X)r doAvn on the 
Avalk. The Avater has to run all the time 
to keej) from fr<'pzing. and so the ice 
grows thicker. The Parson takes a large 
jelly turnover and a glass of milk. No, 
they did not lose any potatoes. These 
tAvo families are Bohemians. 
_A Teurihi.e Break. —Next AA'e stoi» at 
this old-fashioned house at the bend in 
the road. ^ Here is a regular old-time 
Yankee. Never in his 72 years had he 
seen such a Winter as this. ' “.''lo you are 
72. are you?’’ .said the Par.'ion. “And as 
for you.” he continued, turning to Mrs. 
^ank«'e and desiring to be. mor(‘ th:iu 
gracious, “you do not look to be a da.v 
over 70.” “Seventv.” she cried. “I am 
just 51.’ Hoodness ! The I’arson sniff<‘d 
chicken on the stove, but he didn’t get 
so much as a bone. He said he thought 
he heard old Ibdl getting uneasy, and he 
made tracks round the corner of the 
house. 
Getting Ice.—A nd so it goes. Almost 
every family has lost part or all of their 
potatoes. In one Avhole school district 
Ave are told that ever.v family but one 
lost practically all that they had. Mo.st 
of these cell.-irs Avere never knoAvn to 
freeze before. But Avhat a Winter for 
ice! We must pull up and lea\-e sonx* 
l)ictures for the children at this hous<', 
AA-ay over the hill Avhere the Italian milk¬ 
man lives. No one comes to door, but Ave 
hear noises Avithin. I.et us oix'ii the door 
gentl.A'. and here are four little children 
all alone in the house. AVe Imve .su.s- 
pt'Cted Avhere the mother was. We me('t 
the team jjist coming out of the Avoods. 
The man is driving the horse and the 
sb'd is loaded Avith great cakes of 20-inch 
ice. Behind it Avalks tlx' little, frail 
Italian mother. She has been Ix'lping to 
cut and load those cakes! 
She Game Home.—T hough it is suoav- 
ing hard Ave stop at one more pl;ice. The 
Avoman here has been doAvn to Noaa' York 
to A'isit her sister. “You had .a fine trip, 
I suppose,” .said the Parson. “Fine, in¬ 
deed.” she crif'd. “I never Avas .so cold 
in m.v life. ’Fhe people Avould go doAvn 
Avith a coal hod and Avait four hours in 
line, oiiIa’ to be told that it Avas .‘ill goix'. 
We could keep from frei'zing AA’ith the 
gas. but everybody used so much that that 
gaA'e out. Then as ii final stroke, tlx* 
Avater froze ui>. Then I. (|uit. There’s 
no place like home aixl lh<' country for 
me.’’ 
Advice to the Tongue-tied 
In a recent issm' of The B. 
The Little Dog and Her Friends 
the ceiling 
neck. 
dog in bed ! SomehoAv while a pupiiy she 
got into the habit of sleejiing in bed. 
Hoav Avarm and soft and roly-jxdy she Avas 
to snuggle up to. If you Avanted she 
Avtnild lie at .your feet and kei'p them as 
Avarm its totist. How many terrible cold 
nights doAvii couut.v has she helped keeit 
the Parson Avarm! Six' Avould go uit- 
.stiiirs citrly and no one could itull the 
covers doAvn neiiter th.in she, and there 
Ave Avould find her, Avith her little bhick 
nose turned striiight toAA'ard 
iind the covers tip around her 
A Gor.t) Night. —'Fhe Ptirson will 
never forgt't oix' ride we Intd together 
on a terrible night. It was .some six 
years ago. but he remeniber.s it as of ye.s- 
terdity. We left :tt 10 at night for 15 
miles ag.iinst a reguljtr g:ileof Aviixl and 
the mercury 12 degrees’ beloAV. It Avas 
itlmost inqiossible to Iceeji the blankt'ts 
iibout us iit itll, the AA'ind bleAA' so. It AVits 
reitlly the only time in my life I felt 
rcitlly in ditngt'r of freezing. Hoav she 
trembled and snuggled under my coat 
that night! Hoav we had to jump itbout 
itnd stiimj) our feet and SAving 0111 * arms! 
At liist. AVity iifter midnight. Ave stiAv the 
home lights and Moms iihviiys stitnding 
at the Avindow, looking and looking for us 
to come. 
Oni.a' a Dog.- Yes. she was only it 
dog. The Pttrson knows it. Only a dog. 
Put it another Avay. Only a bunch of 
faithfulness itnd utter devotion. And 
Avhat i.s greater in all the Avorld thitii 
these! Above itll books and itll knowl¬ 
edge and all learning, the cultivation 
and fostering of feeling and tenderne.ss 
-Slid affection stands first in the Parson’s 
house. And in this the little black doggie 
has led the Avity for us all. 
Better than Mo.ney. —One day a man 
Avho hits everything that money can buy 
accompanied the Parson and Mrs. Pitr- 
son on their Sunday trip. We got round 
live in that big house Ave .saAv';"’ renuirked 
tlx' Parson as Moms came doAvn from 
putting Sit to bed. “Not for me. Daddy ; 
no. not for all the Avorld,” said she. 
No Moke Go.at. —And the goat with 
the long horns i.s itlso a thing of the jtitst. 
The Piirson never did Citre for him, but 
is is oftener easier to get sucli things 
than to get rid of them. The goat, how¬ 
ever, settled his oavu fitte, and heljted me 
out mightily. ’Fite other day a fearful 
cry iirosi' from the stitll Avhere he Avas 
kept. ’Fite Parson dashed across the 
barn, seizing the jtitchfork as he Avent. 
'Fite ohl goitt had one of tlx* boys cor¬ 
nered agiiinst the AA'all, and if help hadn't 
come it Avould have gone hard Avith him. 
The Parson made the most of the situa¬ 
tion and a fitmily council that night de¬ 
cided thiit Did Bill.v!s iige wits telling on 
him and that he could be spared. 'Fhe 
Parson had to stitnd by his prouiis<' to 
liitA'c his lieitd mounted for the parlor Avail 
itnd his hide titnned for the httby's car¬ 
riage. 
Frozen Potatoe.s.— The Parson has 
just been reading his B. N.-Y. of the 
))ossibility of there bi'ing millions of 
ItUsliels of jKitatoes frozen this year. He 
fcitrs it is all too true. It being so Avarm 
the other morning—three ttbove zero— 
the Piirson took it turn doAvn the T.onely 
Boitd. We pull up at this little green 
hou.se to the right. 'Fhe little Avonittn is 
here Avith her fiA’e small children. She is 
just back from tlx' hosiiital. “Did you 
lose your potatoes?” asks tlie Par.son. 
“Dll. di'itr, dear.” she cries, “we lost cer¬ 
tainly 20 bushels, and it is .so hard 
for us.” 
Water Pipes.—W e itull up at the next 
place itnd go round by the bitek door. 
T.ook at the ice in this little back room! 
'Fhe Ava.ste pipe has frozt'n, and it must 
be tAvo feet thick all round the sink. The 
Avliole floor is , covered with , ice, and it 
N.-Y.. M. 
l>. p. gives some advice to one avIio says 
be is at times “tongue-tied.” Much of 
AA’hat is said by IM. B. D. is helpful. It 
may lx* tliiit he s|teak.s as itn expert in 
fhis field, one Avlx're there are far to > 
few. Be thiit as it may, I AAant to add 
a fcAV Avords of advice to the sufferer, for 
such he is. and offer some suggestions to 
parents of children afflicted in a .similar 
way. Stutterers and stanimeri'rs are iil- 
Avay.s in a measure “tongue-tied” that is, 
tlx'y cannot at times control the organs 
of speech and henc*' remain mute Avlien 
they are expected to speak. To the .sensi¬ 
tive child these moments of heslt.ation 
seem like ages and the agony Avhich he 
endures is very real. Duly tho.se fully 
reitlize this avIio have Ix'en through it 
themselves. Noav as to the causes: 
These iire probably A’lirious. but from my 
nersonal expi'rience and from years of 
careful obserA’ation. I am convinci'd that 
most cases itrise from a Aveaki'iied physi- 
ciil condition and a denleted nervous sys¬ 
tem, .sometimes inherited, but more often 
the result of disease or of st'vere illness. 
In my oavii case T talked “early and 
straight,” as my mother AA-ould put it. 
But Avhen about four years old T had a 
severe sickness, had to learn to Avalk 
itnd to talk oA’cr again, and then the 
stuttering began, just as it has Avith 
many a child. T recall one parallel in- 
.stance of a neighbor’s child. When about 
si.x years* old lx* began to stutti'r. groAA'- 
iug AVor.se instead of better. He had ad¬ 
vice in plenty, the last thing, by the AAay. 
Avliich the stutterer needs. At length the 
parents took the child to an old and 
skilled physician in T'tica, N. Y. He began 
at once to build uj) the ner\'ous system ; 
the crooked siteech Avas soon reniedied. 
and a happy and healthy child Avas- the 
result, his speech defect disapix'itring. 
When the stutterer “talks to himself” 
his speech is normal. When he sings he 
never hesitate-s. Often he reads aloud 
\'-’thout hesitation, especially if he “gets 
off to a. good start.” In other Avords. Avlieu 
he sptiitks unconsciously his speech is not 
impeded. I am spettking now of the child 
Avho is old enough to become conscious 
of his defect and Avhose confidence is 
gradually oozing UAvay becjiuse of re- 
(leated failure to overcome the habit. It 
AA'ill do little good to di’ill him on the p’s, 
the d’s. the t’s and other initial sounds 
Avhicit block his Avav. He can articulate 
Tterft'ctly and enunciate clearly—Avhen by 
liimself. He will get far more helj) from 
training himself to breathe deeply; it Avill 
do much to lessen his nervousness itnd it 
Avill give him confidence, the main thing. 
Teacli him to begin talking on a full lung, 
if I may use the jthrase. It Avill do little 
if any good to tell him to “think before 
he speaks”; tell him to breathe before 
he speaks, just ;is he Avould if he Avere to 
sing. Whoever began to sing on empty 
lungs? As he learns to control his organs 
of respiration, he Avill gradually overcome 
fhe distre.ssing habit, one Avhich. to the 
.sensitive person, rises to haunt him at 
every turn, e, a. w. 
