Part 36 (1/2)
While they ate, through the open door they saw a scattering stream of people pa.s.s along the trail below, all going in the same direction; on foot, on horseback, and mule-back, and ox-back. Many animals carried more than one rider. One old plow-horse came along, led by a st.u.r.dy patriarch, crowded from mane to crupper with children of a.s.sorted sizes.
”Why, how queer, when we never pa.s.sed a single soul all day!” said Jacqueline. ”Where do they all come from, Brother Bates, and where are they going?”
”To the meetin'-house down the trail a ways,” he explained. ”I sont word ahead that a preacher was comin', and all the folks is turnin' out.”
Philip gave a faint groan. ”What, to-night?” He had hoped for a few hours' rest after the day's journey.
”Why, in co'se! Hit's moonlight to-night, an' the teacher's done let out school a-purpose. I done sont word,” said the Apostle. ”'T ain't no time to waste. 'Watch and wait lest the Bridegroom cometh and find thee sleepin'.'”
”So there's a school even in these wilds? A lonely job for a school-ma'am, I should think. Is she pretty?” asked Channing, hopefully, with a thought of the accepted mountain school-teacher of current fiction.
”'T ain't no her. It's a him,” remarked the host; his one contribution to the conversation.
”Reckon a her'd have right smart trouble keepin' school on Misty, wouldn't she, Anse?” chuckled Brother Bates.
”'Low she would,” grunted the other, and relapsed into silence.
Afterwards, on their way to the meeting-house, Jacqueline inquired into his meaning. ”Why would a woman have trouble teaching school here? Are the children so very bad?”
The Apostle explained, ”'T ain't so much the chillun as the grown folks, specially the men folks. You see Teacher makes 'em all come on moonlight nights; the paws and maws, and the gran'paws and gran'maws, too. He's got a whole lot of new-fangled notions, Teacher has. They don't allus take to 'em kindly--you know how old folks are about new-fangled ways.
But he makes 'em come ef they wants to or not, and he larns 'em, too--not only spellin' and sums and such-like, but how to take keer of the babies, and the sick folks, and how to git the hens to lay, and how to cook, and all!”
”To cook! That is indeed a n.o.ble work,” murmured Channing, devoutly, having recourse to his flask of soda-mints. ”Would that our hostess might take advantage of the opportunity!”
”She have,” said Brother Bates, proudly. ”She done nussed the whole fambly through a fever-sickness a little while ago, doin' like Teacher told her, and nary one of 'em died. But she ain't got so fur as cookin'
yet.”
”I'd like to meet this teacher,” said Philip, heartily. ”Will he be at the meeting to-night?”
The Apostle sighed. ”Reck'n he won't. Ain't it queer how a smart man like that don't take no stock in the Word of G.o.d? 'Lows he's scrambled along without it all his life, and allus will. But I dunno. I dunno. I expect the Lord's got a surprise up his sleeve for Teacher.”
The door-yard of the rough cabin that was dignified by the name of meeting-house was quite crowded with men when they arrived. Philip went among them pleasantly, saying, ”Good evening, my friends,” shaking hands where he could find a hand to shake, greeted here and there by a gruff, ”Howdy, Preacher,” but for the most part welcomed in solemn, almost hostile silence.
”They're just kind o' bashful,” murmured the peddler, in apology for his people.
”I know,” smiled Philip, himself feeling a little shy, and like an intruder.
They filed in silently behind him, each depositing a gun in a rack beside the meeting-house door.
”I breathe more easily,” murmured Channing in Jacqueline's ear. ”For small mercies, let us be duly thankful. Lord, what a crew!”
The two followed Philip to the bare, uncarpeted platform that was to serve as altar. The girl saw to her dismay that there was no piano, not even a harmonium to a.s.sist her singing. Brother Bates acted as master of ceremonies. The peddler was evidently a man of great importance in the community, its one traveler, acquainted with the ways of cities.
”Let marryin' couples set on the right-hand, front benches. Preacher will attend to 'em after meetin',” he announced.
Four or five couples obeyed these instructions with subdued t.i.ttering, the fact that several of the brides-to-be carried young infants in their arms not adding appreciably to their embarra.s.sment.
”Have they licenses?” murmured Philip.
”I dunno,” replied the Apostle, serenely. ”Ef they ain't, they kin git 'em afterwards. The Lord knows how fur they be from law-places.”