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THE dismal tidings from the lower regions, that
the larder had been stripped and that scarcely
even a pie remained, soon became an open secret,
about which every one was whispering and commenting.
The supperless wore a defrauded and injured
air. The eyes of many who had not left so important
a duty to the uncertainties of the future, but,
like Auntie Lammer, had availed themselves of the
first opportunity, now twinkled shrewdly and complacently.
They had the comfortable consciousness
of taking care of themselves. But the greater number
were honestly indignant and ashamed that such
a thing should have happened. This feeling of mortification
was increased when the committee reported
but a small sum of money handed in as yet. The
majority were provoked at others, and a few at themselves,
for having brought so little. As the situation
became clearer, all began to act characteristically,
some preparing to slink away and escape a disagreeable
state of things, and others putting their heads
together in the wish to remedy matters. Some giggled,
and others looked solemn. Some tried to
appear resigned, as if it were a dispensation of

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Providence, and others snarled about “them mean Joneses
and Rhamms.”

Lottie hastily summoned her party together, and
told them of the dire emergency, as Mrs. Gubling
had stated it.

“Now,” said she, “if you gentlemen have got
any wit worth the name, you must hit on some way
of helping the parson out of his scrape, for I have
taken a great interest in him, or rather his wife. She
is the queerest little woman I ever saw. I shouldn't
wonder if she were an angel in disguise.”

“As you are undisguised,” whispered De Forrest.

“Oh, be still, Julian. That compliment is as delicate
as Auntie Lammer's appetite. But see, some
of these mean `locusts of Egypt,' after eating their
minister out of house and home, are preparing to go.
We must get a collection before a soul leaves the
house. Julian, you lock the back door, and Mr.
Hemstead, you stand by the front door; and now,
Mr. Harcourt, you are a lawyer, and know how to
talk sharply to people: you give these cormorants to
understand what we expect them to do, before they
leave.”

Hemstead obeyed with alacrity; for the effort to
help the overburdened pastor of Scrub Oaks meet
the rigors of winter seemed about to end in disastrous
failure. He had noticed, with satisfaction, that
many of the people shared his regret, and wished to
do something, but through lack of leadership the
gathering was about to break up, each one

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blaming some one else, and all secretly mortified at the
result.

Harcourt thought a moment, and then stepping
to a position where he could be seen through open
doors and heard from the upper story, clapped his
hands loudly to secure silence, and draw attention
to himself.

“Do you know where your pastor has gone?”
he asked. “He is out now buying provisions with
his own money to feed a crowd who came here
under the false pretence to give a donation, but in
truth, seemingly to eat him out of house and
home.”

Flushes of shame and anger flashed into nearly
every face at these stinging words, but Harcourt
continued remorselessly:

“You know who I am, and I thought I knew
something about you. I had heard that the people
back in the country were large-handed, large-hearted,
and liberal, but we must be mistaken. I think this
the quintessence of meanness, and if you break up
to-night without a big collection, I will publish you
throughout the land. I want you to understand
that your minister has nothing to do with what I
say. I speak on my own responsibility.”

“Capital!” whispered Lottie. “That was redhot
shot, and they deserved it. If that don't drain
their pockets, nothing will.”

But she was not a little surprised and disgusted,
when a stalwart young farmer stepped out, and with
a face inflamed with anger, said in harsh emphasis:

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“I was sorry and ashamed to have this affair end
as it promised to, and was going to come down
handsomely myself, and try to get some others to,
but since that sprig of the law has tried to bully and
whip us into doing something, I won't give one cent.
I want you to understand, Tom Harcourt, that whatever
may be true of the people back in the country,
you, nor no other man, can drive us with a horsewhip.”

The young man's words seemed to meet with
general approval, and there were many confirmatory
nods and responses. They were eager to find some
one to blame, and upon whom they could vent their
vexation; and this aristocratic young lawyer, whose
words had cut like knives, was like a spark in powder.
Many could go away and half persuade themselves
that if it had not been for him they might
have done something handsome, and even the bestdisposed
present were indignant. It would seem
that the party would break up, before the minister
returned, in a general tumult.

The young farmer stalked to the front door, and
said threateningly to Hemstead:

“Open that door.”

“No, don't you do it,” whispered Lottie.

He threw the door open wide.

“Oh, for shame!” she said aloud; “I did not
think that of you, Mr. Hemstead.”

Without heeding her he confronted the young
farmer and asked:

“Do you believe in fair play?”

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“Yes, and fair words, too.”

“All right, sir. I listened quietly and politely to
you. Will you now listen to me? I have not
spoken yet.”

“Oh, certainly,” said the young farmer, squaring
himself and folding his arms on his ample chest.
“Let every dog have his day.”

Hemstead then raised his powerful voice, so that
it could be heard all through the house, and yet he
spoke quietly and calmly.

“The gentleman who last addressed you, now in
the spirit of fair play offers to listen to me. I ask
all present, with the same spirit of candor and politeness,
to hear me for a few moments. But the door
is open wide, and if there are any who don't believe
in fair play and a fair hearing all around, they are at
a liberty to depart at once.”

No one moved. And the young farmer said,
with the sternness of his square face greatly relaxing:

“You may shut the door, sir. We will all listen
when spoken to in that style. But we don't want to
be driven like cattle.” Then yielding farther to the
influence of Hemstead's courtesy, he stepped forward
and shut the door himself.

“Thank you, sir,” said Hemstead heartily, and
then continned:

“I am a stranger among you, and am here to-night
very unexpectedly. My home is in the West,
and like yourselves, I belong to that class who, when
they give, give not from their abundance, but out of
their poverty. There has been a mistake here

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to-night. I think I understand you better than my
friend Mr. Harcourt. From the pleasantness of the
evening more are present than you looked for. There
are many young people here whom I suspect have
come from a distance, unexpectedly, for the sake of
a ride and frolic, and were not as well prepared as if
their households had known of it before. Long
drives and the cold night have caused keen appetites.
When the result became known a few moments ago,
I saw that many felt that it was too bad, and that
something ought to be done, and no one was more
decided in the expression of this feeling than the
gentleman who last spoke. All that was needed
then, and all that is needed now, is to consider the
matter a moment and then act unitedly. I ask you
as Christian men and women, as humane, kind-hearted
people, to dismiss from your minds all considerations,
save one—your pastor's need. I understand
that he has six little children. A long, cold
winter is before him and his. He is dependent upon
you for the comforts of life. In return, he is serving
the deepest and most sacred needs of your natures,
and in his poverty is leading you to a faith that will
enrich you forever. It is not charity that is asked.
A church is a family, and you are only providing for
your own. How could any of you be comfortable
this winter if you knew your minister was pinched
and lacking? The Bible says that the laborer is
worthy of his hire. You have only to follow the
impulse of your consciences, your own better natures,
and I have no fears. A few moments ago your

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pastor had a painful surprise. You can have a very
agreeable one awaiting him by the time he returns.
You can make his heart glad for months to
come, and so make your own glad. Though I am a
stranger, as I said, and a poor man, yet I am willing
to give double what I proposed at first, and if
some one will take up a collection, will hand in ten
dollars.”

“Give me your hand on that,” said the young
farmer heartily, “and there's ten dollars more to
keep it company. When a man talks like that, I
am with him, shoulder to shoulder. Will some one
bring me the dominie's hat?'

One was soon forthcoming.

“And now,” said the young man, stepping up to
Lottie, “you seem to take a sight of interest in this
matter, miss. I think you can look five dollars out of
most of the young chaps here. I'll go around with
you, and see that each one comes down as he or she
ought. If any body ain't got what they'd like to give,
I'll lend it to 'em, and collect it, too,” he added, raising
his strong hearty voice.

Thus through Hemstead's words and action the
aspect of the skies changed, and where a desolating
storm had threatened, there came a refreshing shower.

What he had said commended itself to so many
that the mean and crotchety found it politic to fall
in with the prevailing spirit.

Amid approving nods, whispered consultations
and the hauling out of all sorts of queer receptacles
of money, the graceful city belle and the blunt,

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broad-shouldered farmer started on an expedition
that, to the six little Dlimms, would be more important
than one for the discovery of the North Pole.

“No coppers now!” shouted the young man.

Lottie, fairly bubbling over with fun and enjoyment
of the whole thing, was all graciousness, and
with smiles long remembered by some of the rustic
youth, certainly did beguile them into generosity
at which they wondered ever after.

The result was marvellous, and the crown of the
old hat was becoming a crown of joy indeed to the
impoverished owner, who now had the promise of
some royal good times.

That fast filling hat meant nourishing beef occasionally,
a few books for the minister's famishing
mind, a new dress or two for the wife, and a warm
suit for the children all around.

No one was permitted to escape, and in justice it
could now be said that few wished to, for all began
to enjoy the luxury of doing a good and generous
deed.

When, having been to nearly all, Lottie said to
her now beaming companion:

“Go and get Mrs. Dlimm, and seat her in the
large rocker in the parlor.”

The poor little woman having witnessed all the
earlier scenes from the stairs with strong and varying
feelings, had, during the last few moments, seen
Lottie pass with such a profusion of greenbacks in her
husband's hat, that in a bewildering sense of joy and
gratitude she had fled to the little nursery sanctuary,

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and when found by some of the ladies was crying
over the baby in the odd contradictoriness of feminine
action. She was hardly given time to wipe her
eyes, before she was escorted on the arm of the
now gallant farmer, to the chair of state in the
parlor.

Then Lottie advanced to make a little speech,
but could think of nothing but the old school-day
formula; and so the stately introduction ended
abruptly but most effectively, as follows:

“As a token of our esteem and kindly feeling, and
as an expression of—of—I—we hereby present you
with—with the reward of merit;” and she emptied
the hat in the lady's lap.

Instead of graceful acknowledgement, and a
neatly worded speech in reply, Mrs. Dlimm burst
into tears, and springing up threw her arms around
Lottie's neck and kissed her, while the greenbacks
were scattered round their feet like an emerald
shower. Indeed the grateful little woman, in her
impulse, had stepped forward and upon the money.

The city belle, to her great surprise and vexation,
found that some spring of her own nature had been
touched, and that her eyes also were overflowing.
As she looked around deprecatingly, and half-ashamed,
she saw that there was a prospect of a
general shower and that many of the women were
sniffling audibly, and the brusque young farmer
stood near, looking as if he could more easily hold a
span of runaway horses than he could hold it
himself.

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At this moment Hemstead stepped forward, and
said:

“My friends, we can learn a lesson from this
scene, for it is true to our best nature, and very suggestive.
Your pastor's wife standing there upon
your gift that she may kiss the giver (for in this
instance Miss Marsden but represents you and your
feeling and action), is a beautiful proof that we value
more and are more blessed by the spirit of kindness
which prompts the gift, than by the gift itself. See,
she puts her foot on the gift, but takes the giver to
her heart. The needs of the heart—the soul, are
ever greater than those of the body, therefore she
acknowledges your kindness first, because with that
you have supplied her chief need. She does not
undervalue your gift, but values your kindness more.
Hereafter, as you supply the temporal need of your
pastor, as I believe you ever will, let all be provided
with the same honest kindness and sympathy. Let
us also all learn from this lady's action, to think of
the Divine Giver of all good, before his best earthly
gifts.”

Mrs. Dlimm had recovered herself sufficiently by
this time to turn to the people around her and say,
with a gentle dignity that would scarcely have been
expected from her:

“The gentleman has truly interpreted to you my
very heart. I do value the kindness more even than
the money which we needed so sorely. Our Christian
work among you will be more full of hope

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and faith because of this scene, and therefore more
successful.”

Then, as from a sudden impulse, she turned and
spoke to Hemstead with quaint earnestness:

“You are a stranger, sir, but I perceive from
your noble courtesy and bearing—your power to
appreciate and bring out the best there is in us,
that you belong to the royal family of the Great
King. Your Master will reward you.”

Poor Hemstead, who thus far had forgotten himself
in his thought for others, was now suddenly and
painfully made conscious of his own existence, and
at once became the most helpless and awkward of
mortals, as he found all eyes turned toward him. He
was trying to escape from the room without stepping
on two or three people, to Lottie's infinite
amusement, though the tears stood in her eyes as
she laughed, when Mrs. Gubling, ignorant of all that
had happened, appeared from the kitchen, and created
a diversion in his favor.

The good woman looked as if pickles were the
only part of the donation supper, in which she had
indulged, and in a tone of ancient vinegar, said:

“Them as hasn't eaten, had better come and take
what they can git now.”

A roar of laughter greeted this rather forbidding
invitation. But before any one could reply, Mr.
Dlimm, red and breathless from his exertions, also
entered and with a faint smile and with the best
courtesy he could master under the trying circumstances,
added:

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“I am sorry any of our friends should have been
kept waiting for supper. If they will now be so kind
as to step down, we will do the best we can for them.”

The good man was as puzzled as Mrs. Gubling
had been by a louder explosion of mirth. The stout
farmer whispered something to Lottie, and then he,
with an extravagant flourish, offered his arm to Mrs.
Gubling.

“Go 'long with you,” she said, giving him a push,
but he took her along with him, while Lottie brought
the parson to where his wife stood surrounded by
greenbacks like fallen leaves, which in the hurry of
events had not been picked up. The good man stared
at his wife with her tearful eyes, and Mrs. Gubling
stared at the money, and the people laughed and
clapped their hands as only hearty country people
can. Lottie caught the contagion, and laughed with
them till she was ashamed of herself, while the rest
of her party, except Hemstead, laughed at them and
the “whole absurd thing” as they styled it, though
Harcourt had a few better thoughts of his own.

Mrs. Rhamm's lank figure and curious face now
appeared from the kitchen in the desire to solve the
mystery of the strange sounds she heard, and the
unheard of delay in coming to supper. Lottie's coadjutor
at once pounced upon her, and escorted, or rather
dragged her to where she could see the money.
She stared a moment, and then, being near-sighted,
got down on her knees that she might look more
closely.

“She is going to pray to it,” cried the farmer

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and the simple people, aware of Mrs. Rhamm's devotion
to this ancient god, laughed as if Sidney
Smith had launched his wittiest sally.

“Mrs. Gubling,” continued the young man, “if
you are not chairman of the committee, you ought
to be, for you are the best man of the lot.”

“I'd have you know I'm no man at all. It's no
compliment to tell a woman she's sumpen like a
man,” interrupted Mrs. Gubling, sharply.

“Well, you've been a ministering angel to us all,
this evening; you can't deny that, and I now move
that you and the dominie be appointed a committee
to count this money and report.”

It was carried by acclamation.

“Now while the iron is hot, I'm going to strike
again. I move that we raise the dominie's salary to
a thousand a year. We all know, who know anything,
that he can't support his family decently on
six hundred.”

In the enthusiasm of the hour this was carried
also by those, who at the same time were wondering
at themselves and how it all came about. Strong
popular movements are generally surprises, but the
springs of united and generous action are ever within
reach, if one by skill or accident can touch them.
Even perverted human nature is capable of sweet
and noble harmonies, if rightly played upon.

p668-165

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