It
is a sign that he thinks her soul the most becoming little soul in
the flock, and when he goes away, she looks after him and sighs,
and thinks him the most blessed soul of a parson. The next week
she is the first to get up a subscription which she heads with her
own name in connection with a sum realized by stinting her son of
his gingerbread money, in order to make this excellent parson a
life-member of the "Zion African Bible and Missionary Society, for
disseminating the Word among the Heathen." The same fifty dollars
so appropriated, would have provided fuel for a month to the starving
poor of her own parish.
But Brother Cross gets no such windfalls. It is probable that he never
heard of such a thing, and that if he did, he would unhesitatingly
cry out, "Humbug," at the first intimation of it. Besides, his voice
was not capable of that modulation which a young lover, or a city
parson can give it. Accustomed to cry aloud and spare not, he
usually spoke as if there were some marrow in his bones, and some
vigor in his wind-bags. When he came to see the good wife of his
congregation, he gave her a hearty shake of the hand, congratulated
her as he found her at her spinning-wheel; spoke with a hearty
approbation, if he saw that her children were civil and cleanly;
if otherwise, he blazed out with proper boldness, by telling her
that all her praying and groaning, would avail nothing for her
soul's safety, so long as Jackey's breeches were unclean; and that
the mother of a rude and dirty child, was as sure of damnation, as
if she never prayed at all.
Pages:
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149