Part 8 (1/2)
Little girl, had her doll, and her three year old brother had a hoop, a tin whistle, and a painted kite.
Poor washerwoman came, but as she had only a cotton robe, and a scant pattern at that, the more aristocratic ladies moved farther away, and smelt their cologne, while the poor woman knelt down in the corner, with her face to the fence.
Sixth Avenue lady came in a white satin robe; had a boy to hold up her train, and she had her own hands full of visiting cards.
An African brunette carried a cus.h.i.+on for her mistress to kneel upon, and a man followed behind with a basket containing her certificate of church members.h.i.+p, a gilt-edged prayer-book, two mince-pies and some ham sandwiches.
Old cripple hobbled up, and as he was devoutly saying his prayers, a bad boy (who had not made any preparation for aerial travelling) stole his crutch to make a ball club.
Crowd began to separate into knots, according to their different creeds and beliefs; Unitarians, Baptists, Presbyterians, and Methodists, cl.u.s.tering round their respective preachers.
I noticed that one old lady, evidently believing in the perfect sanct.i.ty of her darling minister, and desiring to insure her own pa.s.sage, had tied herself to his left leg with a fish line.
Baptist man was preaching close communion.
Presbyterian man was descanting on the accountability of infants, and a.s.serting that a child three years old can commit sufficient sin to doom it to the lowest h.e.l.l.
Sunrise--all knelt down to pray; east wind blew, and it began to rain. I noticed that Damphool had found a dry place on the lee side of a cider barrel.
Methodist man took off his coat, and made a stump prayer, while all his congregation yelled ”_Glory_.”
Baptist man inserted a special clause in his supplication, that he and his crowd might go up in a separate boat.
Ministers all prayed _at_ each other, and _for_ n.o.body.
Know-Nothing clergyman addressed a long-winded political prayer to the Almighty, detailing the latest election returns, deploring the choice of the opposition candidate, imploring his blessing on the next governor (if the world _should_ stand), insinuated that he expected the nomination himself, and concluded by advising Him to exclude from heaven all foreigners, or they would refuse to live up to the regulations, and would certainly kick up another row among the celestials.
Down-town man, on hand, ready to go up; tried to pray, but from want of practice, could only utter some disjointed sentences about ”uncurrent funds,” ”money market,” ”Erie down to 36;” (Damphool whispered that if _that_ man ever got to heaven he would melt down the golden harp into coin, and let it out at two per cent. a month.)
Began to rain harder; wind decidedly chilly; their teeth chattered with cold, and they began to wish for the conflagration to commence. Naughty boys on the fence began to throw stones--promiscuous praying on every side. Anxious man stopped in the midst of a long, touching supplication to cuff the ears of a little boy who hit him with a brick; hours slipped away, began to think the entertainment was ”postponed on account of the weather.”
Noon came; folks were not half so scared as they were in the morning; ministers had got too hoa.r.s.e to talk, and were pa.s.sing the time kissing the sisters.
Damphool looked so chilly that I got him a gla.s.s of hot whiskey punch; he looked at me with holy horror, and went on with his prayer, but before he got to ”amen,” the punch had disappeared.
Husband of red-haired woman came and ordered her to go home and wash the breakfast dishes and then mend his Sunday pantaloons.
One o'clock, zeal began to cool off; at two the enthusiasm was below par; at three the rain poured so that I thought an alteration in the Litany would be necessary to make it read, ”Have mercy upon us miserable _swimmers_.” Small boy threw a handful of gravel at long man, which hit him in the face, and made him look like a mulatto with the small-pox.
Long man punched small boy with a fence rail.
Four o'clock; Gabriel hadn't come yet. Damphool, much disappointed, muttered something about being ”sold;” people evidently getting hungry; no loaves or fishes on the ground; woman with two children said she was going home to put them in the trundle-bed; long man looked round to see that no one was looking, then tucked his robe under his arm, got over the fence, and started for home on a dog trot.
Dark; no signs of fireworks yet; pyrotechnic exhibition not likely to commence for some time. Crowd impatient. (I here missed Damphool, and found him an hour afterwards, paying his devotions to an eighteen-penny oyster stew and a mug of ale.)
Stayed an hour longer, when the crowd began to disperse, with their ascension robes so sadly draggled, that if they HAD received a second summons to go, it would have taken an extra quant.i.ty of soap-suds to make them presentable among decent angels.
Appointed myself a committee of five to inquire into the matter; offered the following resolution, which I unanimously adopted:--
_Resolved_, That putting on a clean s.h.i.+rt to go to heaven in, don't always result in getting there, even though the tails be of extra length, and that the creed which teaches such a mode of procedure is a farcical theology, fully worthy to be ranked among the many other excellent ”sells” of that veteran joker of world-wide celebrity--_Jo Miller_.