Part 37 (2/2)

The rest of the sermon was devoted to particular rather than general ends. The Parson appealed, as was his wont, to the children, and the younger members of the congregation, the twigs waiting to be inclined.

And to these his appeal was persuasive and suggestive, never didactic or minatory. He shone best when conducting a children's service, when he walked amongst them using the simplest words.

Perhaps he knew that the middle-aged and old could be touched to finer issues indirectly. In every heart, however worn and tired, there lingers a subtle fragrance of youth which thought of youth releases. The sad fact that many of the elder people were mourning may have tempered what speech he addressed to them, and many of them were aware of this, s.h.i.+fting uneasily in their pews as they remembered similar words spoken in the same place by the same man twenty years back.

Once more, Mrs. Yellam walked home in silence. Fancy, engrossed by her own thoughts, did not speak till they entered the cottage. Then she said, hesitatingly:

”'Tis strange. We talked of lean souls the first day Alfie brought me to see you.”

”Ay--so we did.”

”And afterwards I asked Mr. Hamlin to tell me what 'lean souls' meant.”

”Did 'ee? He never looked once at me this marning.”

”Why should he?”

Mrs. Yellam answered heavily:

”I dunno. But I'd a notion that he had me in mind. 'Twas a notable sermon, but----”

”Yes?”

”He ain't been tried as I have.”

She went upstairs slowly to take off her bonnet and shawl.

Upon the following Wednesday, the sermon a.s.sumed a fresh importance and significance.

Edward Hamlin was killed in action.

CHAPTER XVI

SAINT WILLUM

It was a blow over the heart to Nether-Applewhite. Master Teddy, as everybody called him, had grown to man's estate amongst the villagers, but he was remembered as a boy, full of pranks, a bit of a scapegrace, with a smile that Uncle affirmed to be ”so good as sixpence.” Uncle a.s.sumed a band of crepe, and said to Susan Yellam:

”Master Teddy be taken, and us useless old sticks be left. I taught 'un to set night lines. He'd a tang o' the poacher, he had, but allers ready to give away what trout he catched out o' old Captain's water. Bold as bra.s.s, too, wi' rich or poor. And a good fighter. He fit 'No Account Harry' back o' village pound, and licked 'un, too, a boy bigger'n older'n he. A pleasant word for all, and fair bustin' wi' fun and kindness. I tell 'ee this, I be so sorrowful as if I'd lost a son, but there's rejoicing where he be gone. I can see Saint Peter a-openin' wide the gate to let 'un in.”

Greater orators have declaimed less sincere funeral orations.

Mrs. Yellam said little. Her troubled face made Fancy unhappy. But when she spoke of Edward Hamlin, Mrs. Yellam cut her short:

”He be gone. It don't bear speaking of. Why should such as he be sacrificed to atone for our sins?”

”If G.o.d gave His Only Son----!”

”Ah-h-h! That be it. _If...._”

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