Part 13 (1/2)
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Old Collamer, by the way, is singularly unfortunate in his experiences in the sanctuary. He is extremely deaf, and a few Sundays ago he made a fearful blunder during the sermon. The clergyman had occasion to introduce a quotation, and as it was quite long, he brought the volume with him; and when the time came, he picked up the book and began to read from it. We always sing the Old Hundred doxology after sermon at our church, and Mr. Collamer, seeing the pastor with the book, thought the time had come, so while the minister was reading; he opened his hymn-book at the place. Just as the clergyman laid the volume down the man sitting next to Mr. Collamer began to yawn, and Mr. Collamer, thinking he was about to sing, immediately broke out into Old Hundred, and roared it at the top of his voice. As the clergyman was just beginning ”secondly,” and as there was of course perfect silence in the church, the effect of Mr. Collamer's vociferation was very startling.
But the good old man failed to notice that anything was the matter, so he kept right on and sang the verse through.
When he had finished, he observed that everybody else seemed to be quiet, excepting a few who were laughing, so he leaned over and said out loud to the man who yawned,
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”What's the matter with this congregation, anyhow? Why don't they go home?”
The man turned scarlet, and the perspiration broke out all over him, for he felt that the eyes of the congregation were upon him, and he knew that he would have to yell to make Mr. Collamer hear. So he touched his lips with his fingers as a sign for the old man to keep quiet. But Mr.
Collamer misunderstood the motion:
”Goin' to sing another hymn, hey? All right.”
And he began to fumble his hymn-book again. Then the s.e.xton hurried up the aisle, and explained matters out loud to Mr. Collamer, and that gentleman subsided, while the minister proceeded with his discourse. The clergyman has written Mr. Collamer a note requesting him in the future not to join in the sacred harmony. The effect is too appalling upon the ribald boys in the back pews.
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CHAPTER XI.
A FIs.h.i.+NG EXCURSION DOWN THE RIVER--DIFFICULTIES OF THE VOYAGE--A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE INCIDENTS--OUR RETURN HOME, AND HOW WE WERE RECEIVED--A LETTER UPON THE GENERAL SUBJECT OF ANGLING--THE SORROWS OF THE FISHERMAN--LIEUTENANT SMILEY--HIS RECOLLECTIONS OF REV. MR. BLODGETT--A VERY REMARKABLE MISSIONARY.
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It is said that there is good fis.h.i.+ng in this vicinity. Several of my neighbors who have been out lately have brought home large quant.i.ties of fish of various kinds, together with glowing reports of the delightful character of the sport. A craving to indulge in this form of amus.e.m.e.nt was gradually excited in the mind of Mr. Bob Parker by the stories of the anglers and by the display of their trophies, and he succeeded in persuading me to a.s.sist in the organization of an expedition down the river to the fis.h.i.+ng-grounds. Yesterday was selected for the undertaking. I hired a boat from a man at the wharf; and after packing a generous luncheon in the fish-basket and securing a box full of bait, we tossed our lines into the boat, together with a heavy stone which was to serve as an anchor, and then we pushed out into the stream.
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It was early morning when we started, and to my dismay I found that the tide was running up with remarkable velocity. As we had to pull four miles down the river, this was a consideration of very great importance.
Mr. Parker is not an especially skillful oarsman, and before he had fairly seated himself and dipped his blade in the water we had drifted two hundred yards in the wrong direction. After very severe labor for half an hour, we succeeded in getting three-quarters of a mile below the town, and then Bob informed me that he thought he could row better with my oar. Accordingly, I changed places with him, and during the time thus expended the boat went back a third of the distance we had gained.
Another prolonged and terrible effort enabled us to proceed two miles toward our destination, and then Parker observed that he must stop and rest; he said he would die if he rowed another stroke. So we lay upon our oars for a while, and embraced the opportunity to wipe away the perspiration and to cool our blistered hands in the river. Parker then asked me if I would mind changing places with him again. He said he was now convinced that he had made a mistake in leaving his first position.
We fell back half a mile during this period; and when we finally reached the grounds, the morning was far advanced. Bob was nearly worn out, and he proposed that we give up the idea of catching fish and row ash.o.r.e, where we could lie down under the trees and begin operations upon the luncheon.
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But as we had come to fish, I was determined to do so. I informed Bob that I should be ashamed to go home without bringing any game. I should be afraid to look in the face of the man who owned the boat when he asked me what luck I had. So we tied a rope around the stone, and tossing the stone overboard, we came to anchor. Our hooks were baited and the lines were thrown out, and then Bob and I waited patiently for bites.
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