He
had argued, pleaded, rebuked, and ignored by turns; and always
and through all he had prayed--earnestly, hopefully. But to-day
miserably he was forced to own that matters were no better, but
rather worse.
Two of his deacons were at swords' points over a silly something
that only endless brooding had made of any account. Three of his
most energetic women workers had withdrawn from the Ladies' Aid
Society because a tiny spark of gossip had been fanned by wagging
tongues into a devouring flame of scandal. The choir had split
over the amount of solo work given to a fanciedly preferred
singer. Even the Christian Endeavor Society was in a ferment of
unrest owing to open criticism of two of its officers. As to the
Sunday school--it had been the resignation of its superintendent
and two of its teachers that had been the last straw, and that
had sent the harassed minister to the quiet woods for prayer and
meditation.
Under the green arch of the trees the Rev. Paul Ford faced the
thing squarely. To his mind, the crisis had come.
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