From Jest to Earnest Part 19

Mrs. Dlimm raised her finger impressively, then pointed to the cradle.

"But, my dear--" began her husband, rather impatiently.

"Hush," said the wife, in a low tone; "whatever's the matter don't wake the baby, for then I can't do anything."

"Mrs. Dlimm," said Mrs. Gubling, "they've eat up about everything there is downstairs, 'cept me, and there's three tables yet It's such a fine night, and the sleighing's so good, that lots more have come than we expected. I don't know how much money they brought, but they hain't brought provisions enough."

"What shall we do?" asked Mr. Dlimm, nervously.

"If it takes the last penny we have in the world," said his wife, with grave dignity, "no one shall leave our house hungry. You must step over to the store, Mr. Dlimm, and buy enough to satisfy every one."

"I feel just as you do, my dear," he said, with the air of one who sees duty clearly, though it is far from being agree-able. "Just give me our poor little h.o.a.rd from your bureau drawer, and I'll go at once."

Lottie witnessed the scene with mingled amus.e.m.e.nt and indignation, and then, her face aglow with a sudden put pose, sped away also.

CHAPTER X

HUMAN NATURE.

The dismal tidings from the lower regions, that the larder had been stripped and that scarcely even a pie remained, soon became an open secret, about which every one was whispering and commenting.

The supperless wore a defrauded and injured air. The eyes of many who had not left so important a duty to the uncertainties of the future, but, like Auntie Lammer, had availed themselves of the first opportunity, now twinkled shrewdly and complacently. They had the comfortable consciousness of taking care of themselves. But the greater number were honestly indignant and ashamed that such a thing should have happened. This feeling of mortification was increased when the committee reported but a small sum of money handed in as yet. The majority were provoked at others, and a few at themselves, for having brought so little. As the situation became clearer, all began to act characteristically, some preparing to slink away and escape a disagreeable state of things, and others putting their heads together in the wish to remedy matters. Some giggled, and others looked solemn. Some tried to appear resigned, as if it were a dispensation of Providence, and others snarled about "them mean Joneses and Rhamms."

Lottie hastily summoned her party together, and told them of the dire emergency, as Mrs. Gubling had stated it.

"Now," said she, "if you gentlemen have got any wit worth the name, you must hit on some way of helping the parson out of his sc.r.a.pe, for I have taken a great interest in him, or rather his wife. She is the queerest little woman I ever saw. I shouldn't wonder if she were an angel in disguise."

"As you are undisguised," whispered De Forrest

"O, be still, Julian. That compliment is as delicate as Auntie Lammer's appet.i.te. But see, some of these mean 'locusts of Egypt,'

after eating their minister out of house and home, are preparing to go. We must get a collection before a soul leaves the house.

Julian, you lock the back door, and, Mr. Hemstead, you stand by the front door; and now, Mr. Harcourt, you are a lawyer, and know how to talk sharply to people: you give these cormorants to understand what we expect them to do before they leave."

Hemstead obeyed with alacrity; for the effort to help the overburdened pastor of Scrub Oaks meet the rigors of winter seemed about to end in disastrous failure. He had noticed, with satisfaction, that many of the people shared his regret, and wished to do something, but through lack of leadership the gathering was about to break up, each one blaming some one else, and all secretly mortified at the result.

Harcourt thought a moment, and then, stepping to a position where he could be seen through open doors and heard from the upper story, clapped his hands loudly to secure silence and draw attention to himself.

"Do you know where your pastor has gone?" he asked. "He is out now buying provisions with his own money to feed a crowd who came here under the false pretence of giving a donation, but, in truth, seemingly to eat him out of house and home."

Flushes of shame and anger flashed into nearly every face at these stinging words, but Harcourt continued remorselessly: "You know who I am, and I thought I knew something about you. I had heard that the people back in the country were large-handed, large-hearted, and liberal, but we must be mistaken. I think this the quintessence of meanness, and if you break up to-night without a big collection I will publish you throughout the land. I want you to understand that your minister has nothing to do with what I say. I speak on my own responsibility."

"Capital!" whispered Lottie. "That was red-hot shot, and they deserved it. If that don't drain their pockets, nothing will."

But she was not a little surprised and disgusted, when a Stalwart young farmer stepped out, and with a face aflamed with anger, said in harsh emphasis: "I was sorry and ashamed to have this affair end as it promised to, and was going to come down handsomely myself, and try to get some others to, but since that sprig of the law has tried to bully and whip us into doing something, I won't give one cent I want you to understand, Tom Harcourt, that whatever may be true of the people back in the country, you, nor no other man, can drive us with a horsewhip."

The young man's words seemed to meet with general approval, and there were many confirmatory nods and responses. They were eager to find some one to blame, and upon whom they could vent their vexation; and this aristocratic young lawyer, whose words had cut like knives, was like a spark in powder. Many could go away and half persuade themselves that if it had not been for him they might have done something handsome, and even the best-disposed present were indignant. It seemed that the party would break up, before the minister returned, in a general tumult.

The young farmer stalked to the front door, and said threateningly to Hemstead, "Open that door."

"No, don't you do it," whispered Lottie.

He threw the door open wide.

"O, for shame!" she said aloud; "I did not think that of you, Mr.

Hemstead."

Without heeding her he confronted the young farmer and asked, "Do you believe in fair play?"

"Yes, and fair words, too."

"All right, sir. I listened quietly and politely to you. Will you now listen to me? I have not spoken yet."

"O, certainly," said the young farmer, squaring himself and folding his arms on his ample chest. "Let every dog have his day."

Hemstead then raised his powerful voice, so that it could be heard all through the house, and yet he spoke quietly and calmly.

"The gentleman who last addressed you now in the spirit of fair play offers to listen to me. I ask all present, with the same spirit of candor and politeness, to hear me for a few moments. But the door is open wide, and if there are any who don't believe in fair play and a fair hearing all around, they are at liberty to depart at once."

No one moved. And the young farmer said, with the sternness of his square face greatly relaxing, "You may shut the door, sir. We will all listen when spoken to in that style. But we don't want to be driven like cattle." Then, yielding farther to the influence of Hemstead's courtesy, he stepped forward and shut the door himself.

"Thank you, sir," said Hemstead, heartily, and then continued: "I am a stranger among you, and am here to-night very unexpectedly.

My home is in the West, and, like yourselves, I belong to that cla.s.s who, when they give, give not from their abundance, but out of their poverty. There has been a mistake here to-night. I think I understand you better than my friend Mr. Harcourt. From the pleasantness of the evening mote are present than you looked for.

There are many young people here who I suspect have come from a distance, unexpectedly, for the sake of a ride and frolic, and were not as well prepared as if their households had known of it before. Long drives and the cold night have caused keen appet.i.tes.

When the result became known a few moments ago, I saw that many felt that it was too bad, and that something ought to be done, and no one was more decided in the expression of this feeling than the gentleman who last spoke. All that was needed then, and all that is needed now, is to consider the matter a moment and then act unitedly.

I ask you as Christian men and women, as humane, kind-hearted people, to dismiss from your minds all considerations save one,--your pastor's need. I understand that he has six little children. A long, cold winter is before him and his. He is dependent upon you for the comforts of life. In return, he is serving the deepest and most sacred needs of your natures, and in his poverty is leading you to a faith that will enrich you forever. It is not charity that is asked. A church is a family, and you are only providing for your own. How could any of you be comfortable this winter if you knew your minister was pinched and lacking? The Bible says that the laborer is worthy of his hire. You have only to follow the impulse of your consciences, your own better natures, and I have no fears.

A few moments ago your pastor had a painful surprise. You can have a very agreeable one awaiting him by the time he returns. You can make his heart glad for months to come, and so make your own glad.

Though I am a stranger, as I said, and a poor man, yet I am willing to give double what I proposed at first, and if some one will take up a collection will hand in ten dollars."

"Give me your hand on that," said the young farmer, heartily; "and there's ten dollars more to keep it company. When a man talks like that, I am with him, shoulder to shoulder. Will some one bring me the dominie's hat?"

One was soon forthcoming.

"And now," said the young man, stepping up to Lottie, "you seem to take a sight of interest in this matter, miss. I think you can look five dollars out of most of the young chaps here. I'll go around with you, and see that each one comes down as he or she ought. If anybody ain't got what they'd like to give, I'll lend it to 'em, and collect it, too," he added, raising his strong, hearty voice.

Thus through Hemstead's words and action the aspect of the skies changed, and where a desolating storm had threatened there came a refreshing shower. What he had said commended itself to so many that the mean and crotchety found it politic to fall in with the prevailing spirit.

Amid approving nods, whispered consultations, and the hauling out of all sorts of queer receptacles for money, the graceful city belle and the blunt, broad-shouldered farmer started on an expedition that, to the six little Dlimms, would be more important than one for the discovery of the North Pole.

"No coppers now!" shouted the young man.

Lottie, fairly bubbling over with fun and enjoyment, was all graciousness, and with smiles long remembered by some of the rustic youth, certainly did beguile them into generosity at which they wondered ever after.