The Starbucks Part 20

"I didn't think so, but I am. I put myself in mind of the old feller that stood all day a smelling of a rose bush when the weeds were choking his corn. In my wheat field the tares are coming up, now that I am away, and I ought to be there to pull them up by the roots."

"But you need a vacation. Ail preachers take vacations. Why, in the cities, they--"

"Yes, ma'm," he broke in. "Sometimes they shut up their churches, I know, and they go away from their desks and their pulpits; but they are learned men, bristling with sharp points against the man who attacks their creed. I am not armed that way. I can't argue; I can't defend the church against the smart men that Satan has hired. All I can do is to preach in my rough way and go about and beg men to do as near right as they can."

"And St. Paul could not have done more, Mr. Reverend."

"Ah," he said, bowing low, and then looking up at her. "I am afraid of St. Paul. He was a great scholar and in his hands the gospel was a dazzling thing. But with poor, ignorant Peter it was simple; and I choose Peter for my master because I am not afraid of him."

Below them Tom and Lou sat on a rock. The game young fellow was still shy. Sometimes he looked as if he despaired of ever recovering his wonted nerve, for in this girl, so modest and so shrinking, he knew that there lay asleep the wildcat's fearful spirit. Bold by nature he longed at times to see this spirit blaze, but her soft eyes pleaded with him and gentleness made him afraid.

"Come right in," said Margaret as they appeared at the door. "Have this cheer, Miz Mayfield?"

"No, thank you I'll sit over here." She sat down near the table, and Jim took a seat opposite to her and resumed his silent gaze. "We have had a delightful stroll," said Mrs. Mayfield, taking off her gloves; and Lou who stood behind her peeped around lovingly into her eyes.

"Stroll," cried Tom. "I call it a chase. And you could catch a deer almost as easily as to keep up with Miss Lou."

"Why, Mr. Tom, I didn't walk fast."

"Oh," he rejoined, "you didn't walk at all. You flitted."

His aunt looked at him. "Tom, dear, don't be extravagant."

"Extravagant! That's the reason father let me come up here. So I couldn't be extravagant."

"He is determined to be literal," she said with a sigh.

Lou gathered up a handful of flowers that lay in Mrs. Mayfield's lap.

"Let me have these," and she began to weave them into the city woman's hair.

"Why, daughter," cried Margaret, "don't do that. She mout not like it."

"Oh, don't stop her, please," Mrs. Mayfield replied, and then to Jim she added: "Did you ever have a fawn touch you with its velvety lip? The thrill of innocence, the--"

"Auntie, don't be extravagant," Tom broke in, and Lou gave him a look of tender reproof. "I wish you'd hush, Mr. Tom. I like to hear her talk."

"Why--why don't you like to hear me talk?"

"I do except when you interrupt her."

He hung his head. "Thank you. Wishes should be sacred when set to music."

"A very pretty speech," said Mrs. Mayfield, nodding Tom a compliment, and Margaret, not to be left behind, declared: "Oh, he couldn't be pearter if he tried."

"There," exclaimed the girl, patting Mrs. Mayfield's head, "you are in bloom."

"She was the moment you said so," Tom replied.

"Do you think so?"

"Yes, I know it. She burst into bloom the moment you spoke."

"Then I'm glad I said it. Some how you always make me feel glad when I've said somethin'. You are the only--only people that ever did that."

Jim had not spoken. Mrs. Mayfield asked him why he was so silent. "A man is sometimes most silent when he is afraid of saying too much," he answered, looking down.

"Mysterious wisdom," she mused, and this gave Tom his opportunity.

"Well, that's what you like, Auntie. You never did care for anything you could understand."

"I don't care for impertinence, sir," and Lou laughed at him: "There, you got it that time."

"Ma'm, I have no desire to be mysterious," said Jim. "A hay stack in an open field couldn't be plainer than my life up to now, but there comes a time even in the most honest man's life when he feels that he must hide something, and that something is the fact that he does feel."

"There, auntie," cried Tom, "he has given you enough mystery to last you--fifteen minutes."

"Is it too warm in here?" Margaret inquired, getting up and going toward the door. They told her that it was "very pleasant," and she looked around at them as if in her opinion it was getting fairly warm but not quite warm enough.

"Mr. Reverend," said Mrs. Mayfield, "I have never known a man like you.

And did you ever have a fight, being a Starbuck?"

"I have seen men fall down."

"But you never killed anybody, did you--still being a Starbuck?"

"Kill anybody!" Tom cried. "Why, he's a D. D. not an M. D."

"Oh, hush, you stock joker. But Mr. Reverend, don't you think it is awfully wrong to fight?"

And gazing into her eyes he said: "At times, ma'm, it is just as essential as prayer. Now, Peter drew his sword and cut off a man's ear, and Peter stood right up next to Christ."

"But the Savior told him to put up his sword."

"Very true, ma'm, but not until after the feller had lost his ear."

"Law, me!" exclaimed Margaret, standing at the door, "but you folks air cuttin' up scollops."

"Mr. Reverend," Mrs. Mayfield continued, determined to pursue a subject so interesting to herself, "someone told me of a very heroic thing you did."

"Why, ma'm, I can't look back an' see that I ever did anything heroic. I have helped many an old woman across the creek; I have helped a man set out his tobacco plants, and I want to tell you that settin' out tobacco is the most fetching work I ever did."

"But this was something you can't make light of. I am told that when Memphis was stricken with yellow fever you went down there and nursed the sick."

For a moment he was silent and then he said: "They needed strong arms down there then. The hospitals were full and the churches empty. It seemed to me like the gospel had got scared and was running to the mountains. The Lord may not have called upon me to preach, but I do believe he called on me to go down there."

Leaning upon the table she gazed into his face as if she were for the first time in her life contemplating a human mystery. "You are a n.o.ble man, Mr. Reverend. My faith in man gasped and died, but into it you have blown the sweet breath of a new life. Don't misunderstand me, I--"