150 
The RURAL NEW-YORKER 
January 29, 1921 
Pastoral Parson and His Country Folks 
By Rev. George B. Gilbert 
Rabbit Sausage. —The Parson has just 
bean reading in Tiie R. N.-Y about rais¬ 
ing tame rabbits, and he must add to 
what that letter says a story that has re¬ 
cently come down from a couple of towns 
above here, fine of the butchers of the 
town began to build up a great trade in 
sausage. It had a wonderful flavor, and 
everybody wanted it. The people insisted 
on knowing what made it so good, and he 
disclosed the fact that there was rabbit 
meat in it. Then they wanted all the 
more. But how could he make so much 
sausage from rabbit meat? Where did 
the rabbits come from? The rival butcher 
got doubly excited over it. There weren’t 
enough rabbits in the State to make all 
that sausage. He spread abroad insinu¬ 
ations as to the amount of actual rabbit 
meat in that sausage. 
Fifty-Fifty. — Curiosity ran higher 
and higher as the sausage meat sold faster 
and faster, until at last a delegation 
waited on the butcher to insist on know¬ 
ing the proportion of rabbit—and what 
the rest of the sausage was made of. After 
much reluctance, the butcher admitted 
that there was some horse meat in that, 
sausage— some horse meat; in fact, if 
they must know, it was made “fifty-fifty 
horse meat and rabbit — fifty-fifty.” “But 
it/ain't be.” declared the delegation. “It 
can’t be. There isn’t enough rabbit meat 
in New England.” “It positively is 
fifty-fifty, and I can prove it. One horse 
to one rabbit, every time.” Most likely it 
was a pound and a half wild rabbit at 
that. 
A Santa Trip. —The Parson has just 
returned from his last Santa Claus trip 
of the season, lie thought they were all 
over when here came a fine, big express 
box from a neighboring big city, just full 
of Christmas presents. They were filings 
that had been brought in by the city 
children themselves—things they had 
outgrown or no longer cared for. They 
were all in fine shape—many perfectly 
new. Then there were other things to 
take along on the trip—fine clothing to be 
given out and fine books for children. 
Right here the Parson extends liis great 
appreciation to all who sent him things 
for his large church family this year. 
They have never had such a fine Christ¬ 
mas as this. It took the Parson till 
after dinner, the best lie could do, to get 
loaded up and off on this 12-mile trip. He 
headed for the abandoned Methodist 
Church, where he took up the pews and 
had a congregational gathering a year or 
go ago. and has had occasional gatherings 
since. There are six or eight houses 
around this old. abandoned church. It 
was very muddy and slow going for old 
Jim, and nearly dark when we reached 
there. The first thing to do is to ring 
up the old bell. It was too cold for the 
bats—they refused to budge, much less 
to scatter in all directions, as they do in 
the Summer. 
Which Is Worse? —Now when the 
people down there hear the old church 
bell ring again they know that one of 
two things has happened—either there is 
a fire or the Pastoral Parson has struck 
town. The first thing to do is to look 
out of the upstairs window to see if you 
can see smoke, and if you see it. then the 
thing to do is rush down the road without 
finishing your supper or watering old 
Dobbin (and they have seen house a-fire 
smoke twice this past Summer) ; but if 
you don’t see the smoke, then you swal¬ 
low your supoer and change your clothes 
and hustle down to the church just the 
same. We hadn’t gotten half those things 
marked and hung on that big pine Christ¬ 
mas tree when the children began to come. 
Such a good time as we had in I he old 
church that night. “Tap on the Rack.” 
“Jacob and Rachael” and Virginia reel 
were in order. The Parson had brought 
a graphophone and records with him. 
Then the children spoke the Christmas 
pieces they had learned in school, and 
the Pa'-son told stories—“Tittle Orpliant 
Annie.” “The Whale and the Elephant,” 
“The Camel and the Jackal.” and the 
whole of that 10-page story in Sarah 
Cone Bryant’s book. “Billy Beg and IIis 
Bull.” This is a great story, especially 
for boys. 
A New Famit.y.—A s the Parson ap¬ 
proached the church that night in the 
dark he saw a young girl coming down 
the road. lie did not know her. but. of 
course, he pulled up old Jim and told her 
of the partv and the tree, and urged her 
to come. “Mother has died.” said the 
girl, “and I can’t come.” Yes, the 
mother had died, but the girls in tbe fam¬ 
ily had never come anyway. For some 
reason this mother would never let them. 
Rut. lo and behold ! if the girl and her 
sister didn’t walk in a little later. This 
oldest girl does all the work and takes 
care of her little baby sister, hardly a 
year old. What a light shone in this 
girl’s face as she played those games— 
unite likely the first games of her life. 
Could one ever forget the laugh she gave 
as she stood up in line for her first Vir¬ 
ginia reel, with the old graphophone 
grading out “The Irish Washerwoman.” 
The Future. —This church must some 
wav be restored to these people as their 
religious community center. It is now 
owned by a single individual, who does 
not live there at all. There is already a 
goodly sum in hand towards its purchase. 
IIow happy everybody was going home 
that night with their presents under their 
arms. Can these children grow up not 
to fight and quarrel as they see so many 
of their elders? Of course they can, if 
they will learn to play together and plan 
together and feel the Christmas spirit to¬ 
gether. IIow much they had to talk 
about round the old schoolhouee the next 
morning. And here comes the Parson on 
his way home in the rain with a great 
pile of fine books to leave at school for 
the children to read ! 
The Christmas Spirit. — It is the 
Christmas spirit of sharing and service 
that will save this little community and 
will save civilization—if it can be saved. 
All people have various instincts, and 
sometimes they cultivate one of them to 
the exclusion of the others. Take the 
instinct of beauty. The Greeks culti¬ 
vated this to a marked degree, and as long 
as they did things went well with them. 
In tlie early centuries the Romans had a 
great idea of personal justice and personal 
rights. The Hebrews had quite an idea 
of economic justice, crying out against 
‘joining land to land and fence to fence” 
—the big holders gobbling up all the little 
estates or farms. Rut there is another 
instinct that became foremost in all the 
nations, and wrecked them, and it is fast 
wrecking the world today. 
The Acquisitive Instinct.— It is the 
acquisitive or possessive instinct. When 
this instinct comes to the fore, terrible 
trouble always follows in its wake. The 
most people care about in to have things 
and get things ^nd hold things. The mor.e 
they have, the more they want. This 
heiils to some having an abundance, liv¬ 
ing in luxury and idleness and flaunting 
their wastefulness in f he eyes of the poor. 
It is this instinct, unrestrained, that 
makes classes in society and class hatred 
and bitterness and finally war. We all 
know that it is what made the last war. 
It wrecked the Grecian state, it wrecked 
the Roman Empire, and will wreck West¬ 
ern civilization if it keeps on. The at¬ 
mosphere of the home, of the school, of 
the college, is for the most part, to get, to 
acquire, to hold. This is the measure of 
success. 
ITow’s the Roy Doing? —The Parson 
well remembers how the town calf buyer 
used to stand over on the postoffice cor¬ 
ner when father’s boys came home for a 
vacation. “How’s the boy doing?” is the 
question the Parson, as he sat in the 
wagon and held old Rill, could always 
hear him asking. Do you suppose lie 
means—how’s lie doing toward the little 
boys in the mission down by the river 
where he worked while in college, or did 
he mean just one thing—how’s he doing 
toward getting a bank account? 
Getting or Giving. —To substitute the 
spirit of giving for the spirit of getting, 
the spirit of service for the spirit of 
selfishness, this is the task of the hour ; 
this alone can save the human race. 
Christmas has come and gone. Has its 
spirit been strong enough to make a real 
impression on an acquisitive world? It 
lias on some individuals; it has on some 
families, and some neighborhoods. As 
for the nations of the earth, who shall 
answer? 
The New t Year.— It would appear to 
the Parson that there is but one resolu¬ 
tion at this time that befits the dark days 
that seem ahead. It is a resolution that 
will bring infinite happiness to him who 
resolves it, and to all those around him. 
It will make life worth living and turn 
its commonplaces into things divine. 
When the atmosphere of the family 
hearthstone becomes one of helpfulness 
and the boys will be proud to come home 
and tell of the good they have done rather 
than the money they have made, then will 
the turn have been made toward a so¬ 
ciety that will not destroy itself. For 
the vast treasures that were put in the 
earth for the good of God’s children are 
now taken out. by these same children to 
maim and to kill and destroy one another. 
Will the many fathers who read this let¬ 
ter care more this coming year for the 
part their children are taking in trying 
to put a new foundation under the social 
structure than they do for the kind of an 
automobile that the boy drives up to tin* 
front door, under the awe-stricken gaze 
of the surrounding neighbors? 
Service in Fact. —Strangely enough 
as the Parson was writing the above, 
about nine o’clock in the evening, there 
comes a man at the door and Shelley let 
him in and the Parson goes downstairs 
to find that the fellow has come up from 
some eight miles down country afoot on 
his way back to New York. I-Ie is hun¬ 
gry and without a cent—a Hebrew—and 
has paid $700 down and given a mortgage 
for $N00 on a farm that the Parson would 
hate to offer $."100 for. His family re¬ 
fused to live on this place, and he is tired 
and discouraged trying to live there alone. 
So we built up the kitchen fire with the 
kindlings little Flossie had gotten ready 
for morning, and the Parson cut off some 
beefsteak and Mrs. Parson made some 
tea. and these, with, bread and butter, 
make him a meal. He certainly did it 
justice! Lest his “Hebrew friends” he 
talks about, might not. have as much spare 
room as he thinks, the Parson gives him 
a dollar and now he starts out again, 
nearly 10 o’clock, trudging the last two 
miles to town. With what hopes this 
man came out into the country, and now 
he goes back again a sadder and a wiser 
fellow. Another leaf is added to tin 1 great 
story of the tragedy of the soil. The 
Parson always had great respect for the 
fellow in the story who was so glad to 
go to the bad place as he had always been 
too poor to be warm enough in this world. 
He often feels as though he would be 
perfectly willing to go to that place him¬ 
self, just to see what God is doing with 
the people who have taken advantage of 
the distress of their brothers to skin them 
of all they possess in the world. 
A Different Grist. —The case of this 
man reminds the Parson of another man 
that rode with him the other day as he 
started for a two-day trip. He came 
along down from the trolley just as the 
Parson was getting into the wagon to 
go his way. Tie has bought a place just 
about four miles k out from the city. He 
now owes on it just about twice what the 
Parson would have offered for it. But. 
he is full of hope and cheer—and he may 
come out ahead at that. The natives view 
the place as to its possibilities as to to¬ 
bacco, cows and potatoes. Rut this man 
sees it with quite different eyes. There 
is an old grist mill on the place-»-quite 
near the house. “Nothing but an eye¬ 
sore." say the natives; “hardly fit to put 
hay in..” “Just the place for city board¬ 
ers.” says this man. “I plan to finish off 
12 bedrooms in that place.” “All filled 
up ; hardly more than a mudhole,” says the 
native, as he looks at the old mill pond; 
“good place for mud turtles and mosqui¬ 
toes.” “Just the place for boarders to 
bathe in.” says this man. So, the grist 
for the old mill will come from Macy’s 
and Wanamaker’s and the new miller 
may get. quite a toll at that. 
The Grange and the Country So- 
ctai,.— Tomorrow the Parson journeys off 
to a meeting of the State Grange, where 
he has been asked to attend a half-day 
conference of the Grange lecturers. He 
is to speak in the interest of the social hour. 
The room for improvement is an awfully 
big room, from whatever angle you view 
it. and in the Parson’s mind its size does 
not suffer, if you shv a glance at the 
Grange’s social work. Would it not be 
eminently worth while for each local 
Grange to have a social leader chosen, to 
lead its games and its dancing, and to 
have these leaders meet county or State 
conferences under an experienced State 
leader? At such conferences the actual 
demonstration of a country social should 
always be the chief feature. 
The Risiiop and the Roys. — The 
bishop was down to one of the Parson’s 
village missions the other Sunday. 
There was a long row of boys right lin 
in front. The bishop couldn’t help notic¬ 
ing them. “What a fine-looking lot. of 
boys.” he remarked. The Parson was 
prorl of his boys—destruction or no de¬ 
struction. They did look slick and trim. 
You see the Parson’s class and the Par¬ 
son all went down round the furnace after 
the Sunday school was all over. There 
was a dandy coal fire down there. The 
Parson had butchered a fine beef the week 
before, and the boys found some rib pieces 
and little steaks in the grip, together with 
the bread and cocoa and cups and saucers. 
Then. too. they found something else—it 
was the barber’s kit—the clippers and 
shears and comb. Nothing doing but their 
hair must be cut for the bishop’s benefit. 
The Parson had to hurry, but while the 
cooking and eating were going on the 
Parson got through with the five heads 
that needl’d if the most. When the bishop 
heard all about it, he had a wonderful 
twinkle in his eye. “Tt is really a great 
thing,” he remarked, “to be able to trim 
your congregation.” 
Trouble Between Neighbors 
Our neighbors’ guinea hens came to 
our place and stayed here. We told 
owners to get them, but they would not. 
The birds raised six young ones on our 
feed, eating our popcorn and other grains 
and also eating with our chickens. The 
owners want them back now. Gan we 
claim the young ones, or how much could 
we charge for damage? We told owners 
a number of times to get them in the 
Spring. f. s. 
Iowa. 
Under such circumstances we should 
keep these chickens and return the hen. 
That would seem like a fair proposition 
Of course it would hardly be possible to 
Ague out. the damage done by one hen! 
As you have fed the hens and their 
chickens it seems fair for you to keep 
the latter in payment. Such things be¬ 
tween neighbors ought to be settled with¬ 
out trouble. 
I have a neighbor, an old bachelor, who 
keeps about a dozen cats. I raised this 
year, or rather tried to raise, 300 puio 
Wyandottes. I paid 20 cents apiece. TIis 
cats rook more than 100 . When I sold 
my chickens buyers gave me $2 to $3 
apiece. What a loss for a poor farmer 
on account of cats! Recently they went 
in my rabbit pen and carried off six 
young rabbits before I found out where 
my rabbits went. Saturday night a cat 
got into my pantry and carried off our 
whole Sunday dinner. What can I do? 
My dog, while small, stole an egg from a 
nest he had on the ground. I never go 
there, my dog never goes there, but he 
wants me to kill the dog. as he thinks 
his eggs are not safe. The dog is five 
years old now. and never touches eggs 
any more. We have our pigs in a pas¬ 
ture; his side of the pasture fence is all 
rotten. The pigs go through into his or¬ 
chard and pick up apples. He kicks them 
and hurts them, but will not fix his fence. 
I have fixed it now in most places. What 
can I do for next vear? MRS. L. R. 
New York. 
Your neighbor’s cats have no more 
business on your place than his horse or 
cow would have. He is bound to feed 
them and keep them at home or suffer the 
consequences. These consequences in 
most cases would consist in shobting the 
cats. That is what most people would 
do in such a case, and on the facts you 
present the law would uphold such kill¬ 
ing. Your neighbor is expected to keep 
up one-half of the fence so as to turn 
ordinary stock, and you cun compel him 
to do so. 
