Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 31, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 7 February 1917 — PRUDENCE of the PARSONAGE [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

PRUDENCE of the PARSONAGE

by EIHEL HUESION

(Copyright, - by the *Bobbs-Merrill Comp*gy.) —==

CHAPTER 11—Continued. So it was that the twins and Connie were alone for a while. “You did a pretty good job, Connie,” said Carol approvingly. “Yes, I think I did myself,” was the complacent answer. “But I intended to put in, ‘Keep us as the apple of thy eye, hold us in the hollow of thy hand,’ and I forgot It until I had said ‘Amen.’ I bait a notion to put In a postscript, but I believe that isn’t done." “Never naind,” said Carol, ‘/I’ll use that in mine, tomorrow.” It cannot be said that this form of family worship was a great success. The twins were invariably stereotyped, cut and dried. They thanked the Lord for the beautiful morning, for kind friends, for health, and family, and parsonage. Connie always prayed in sentences extracted from the prayers of others she had often heard, and every Ume with nearly disastrous effect. - -But later on the morning worship went better. The prayers of the ehilidren changed—became more personal, less flowery. They remembered that when they knelt they were at the feet of God, and speaking direct to him. The family had been in the new parsonage only three weeks, when a visiting minister called on them. It was about ten minutes before the luncheon hour at the time of his arrival. Mr. Starr was in the country, visiting, so the girls received him alone. It was an unfortunate day for the Starrs. Fairy had been at college all morning, and Prudence had been rummaging in the attic, getting it rea'dy for a rainy day and winter playroom for the younger girls. She was dusty and (bed) The luncheon hour arrived, and the girls came in from school, eager to be Tip"and away again. Still the graver young minister sat discoursing upon serious topics with the fidgety Prudence —and ‘in spite of dust and perspiration, she was good to look upon. Hev. Mr. Morgan realized that, and could not tear himself away. Finally Prudence sighed. - “Do you like sweet corn, Mr. Morgan?” " \' ' This was entirely out of the line of their conversation, and for a moment he faltered. “Sweet corn?” he repeated. “Yes, - roasting ears, you know —- cooked on the cob.” Then he smiled. “Oh, yes, indeed. ■Very much,” he said. “Well,” she began her explanation father drearily, “I was busy this morning and did not prepare much luncheon. We are very fond of sweet corn, and 1 cooked an enormous panful. But that’s all we have fbr luncheon—Sweet corn and butter. We haven’t even bread, because I am going to bake this afternoon, ‘ and we .never eat it with sweet corn, anyhow Now, if you care to eat corn and butter, and canned peaches, we’d just love to have you stay for luncheon with us.” Rev. Mr. Morgan was charmed, and said so. So Prudence rushed to the kitchen, opened the peaches in a hurry, aadltßfaed out a clean napkin for their guest. Then they gathered about the table, five girls and the visiting -minister. It was really a curious sight, that table. In the. center stood a tall Vas« of goldenrod. On Either side of •l

the vase was a great platter piled high with sweet corn, on the cob! Around, the table were six plates, with the necessary silverware, and a' glass of water for eaeft. There was also a small dish of peaches at each place, and an individual plate of butter. That was a il__except the napkins. But Prudence made no apologies. She was a daughter of the parsonage! She showed Rev. Mr. Morgan to his place as graciously and sweetly as though she were ushering him in to a twenty-seven-course banquet “Will you return thanks. Mr. Morgan?” she said. . ■ And the girls bowed, their heads. u w Mr. Morgan cleared his throat, and began: “Pur we thank thee for this table.” There wgs more of the blessing, but the parsonage girls heard not one additional phrase—except Connie, who followed him conscientiously through

every word. Carol burst into merry laughter, close upon his reverent “Amen”—and after one awful glare at her sister, Prudence joined in, and soon it was a rollicking group around the parsonage table. Mr. Morgan himself smiled uncertainly. He was puzzled. More, he was embarrassed. But as soon as Carol could get her breath, she gasped out an explanation. “You were just—right, Mr. Morgan—to give thanks —for the table! There’s nothing—on it—to be thankful for!” And the whole family went off once more into peals of laughter. Mr. Morgan had very little appetite that day. He did not seem to be so fond of sweet corn as he had assured Prudence. He talked very little, too. And as soon as possible he took his bat and walked hurriedly away. He never called at the parsonage again. A few weeks after this Carol distinguished herself again, and to her lasting mortification. A man living only six blocks from the parsonage had generously dffered Mr. Starr free pasturage for his pretty little Jersey in his broad meadow, and the offer was gratefully accepted. This meant that every evening the twins must walk after the cow, and every morning must take her back for the day’s grazing. One evening, as they were starting out from the meadow homeward with the docile animal, Carol stopped and gazed at Bllnkie reflectively. “Lark,” she said, “I just believe to my soul that I could ride this cow. She’s so gentle, and I’m such a good hand at sticking on.” —“Carol i’*-e4aeula ted Lark. “Think how it would look for a parsonage girl to go down the street riding a cow.” “But there’s no one to see,” protested Carol. And this was true. For the

parsonage was near the edge of town, and the girls passed only five houses on their way home from the meadow — and all* of them were well back from the road. Lark argued and pleaded, but Carol was firm. “I must try it,” she insisted, “and if it doesn’t go well I can slide off. You can lead her, Lark.” = The obliging Lark boosted her sister up, and Carol nimbly scrambled Into place, riding astride. ‘Tve got to ride this way,” she said. “Cows have such funny backs I couldn’t keep on any other w T ay. If I see anyone coming, I’ll slide for it.” For a while at! went well. Lark led Blinkie carefully, gazing about anxiously to see that no one approached. So they advanced to within two blocks of the parsonage. By this time Blinkie concluded that she was being Imposed -upon. She shook her head Violently, and twitched the ropte from Lark's hand, gave a scornful toss of her dainty head, and struck out madly for home. With great presence of mind, Carol fell flat upon the cow’s neck, and hung on for dear life, while Lark, in terror, started out in pursuit. “Help! Help!” she cried loudly. “Papa! Papa! Papa!” In this way they turned In at the parsonage "gate, which happily stood open. As luck would have It, Mr. Starr was standing at the door with two men who had been calling on him, and hearing Lark’s frantic cries, they rushed to meet the wild procession, and had the unique experience of seeing *>a parsonage girl riding flat on her stomach on the neck of a galloping Jersey, with another parsonage girl in mad pursuit. Blinkie stopped beside the barn, and turned her. head -about inquiringly. Carol slid to the ground, and buried her face in her hands at sight of the two men with her father. Then, with

never a word, she lit out for the house at top speed. The three men sat down, on the ground and burst Into hearty laughter. Lark came upon them asj they sat thus, and Lark was angjry. She stamped her foot with a violence that miist have hurt her. “I don’t see anything to laugh at,” she cried passionately, “it was awful, it was just awful! Carrie might have been killed! It—lt—” “Tell us all about It, Lark,” gasped her father. And Lark did so, smiling a little herself, now that her fears were relieved. .“Poor Carol,” she said, “she’ll .never Hv,e down .the humiliation. I roust go and console her.” In a little while Carol felt much better. But she talked it over with Prudence very seriously. “I hope you understand, Prudence, that 1 shall never have anything more to do with Bllnkie! She can die of starvation for all I care. I’ll never take her to and from the pasture again. I couldn’t do it! Such rank ingratitude as that cow displayed was never equaled, I am certain.” “I suppose you’ll quit using milk and cream, too,” suggested Prudence. “Oh, well,” said Carol more tolerantly, “I don’t want to be too hard on Bllnkie, for after all it was partly my own fault So I won’t go that far. But I must draw the line somewhere! Hereafter Bllnkie and I meet as strangers!” - CHAPTER 111. The Ladies' Aid. Now, this really was a crisis In the life of the parsonage family. The girls had met, separately, every member of the Ladies’ Aid. But this was their first combined movement upon the parsonage, and Prudence and Fairy realized that much depended on the success of the day. As girls, the whole Methodist church pronounced the young Starrs charming. But as parsonage people—well, they were obliged to reserve judgment. And as for Prudence having entire charge of the household, iT must be acknowledged that every individual Lady looked forward to this meeting, with eagerness—they wanted to “size up” the situation. They were coming to see for themselves! Yes, it was undoubtedly a crisis. “There’ll be a crowd, of course,” said Fairy. “We’ll just leave the doors between the front rooms open.” “Yes; hut we’ft close the dlning-room doors. Then we’ll have the refreshments aiV out -on the table, and when we are ready we’ll just fling back the doors carelessly and—there you ate 1” So the table was prettily decorated With flowers, and great plates of sandwiches and cake were placed upon it. In the center was an enormous punchbowl, borrowed from the Averys, fdll of lemonade.—Glasses were properly arranged on the trays,, afid piles of nicely home-laundered napkins were scattered here and there. The girls felt that, the dining room was a credit to them, and to the Methodist church entire.

From every nook and corner of the house they hunted out chairs and stools, anticipating a real run upon the parsonage. Nor were they disappointed. The twins and Connie were not even arrayed in their plain little ginghams, clean, before the first arrivals were ushered up into the front bedroom, ordinarily occupied by Prudence and Fairy. “There’s Mrs. Adams and Mrs. Prentiss, and Mrs. —” began Connie, listening intently to the voices in the next room. “Yes,” whispered Carol, “peek through the keyhole, Lark, and see If Mrs. Prentiss is looking under the bed for dust. They say she —” “You’d better not let Prudence catch you repeating—” “There’s Mrs. Stone, and Mrs. Davis, and—”

“They say Mrs. Davis only belongs to the Ladies’ AW for the sake of the refreshments, and —” “Carol! Prudence will punish you.” “Well, I don’t believe it,” protested Carol. “I’m just teling you what I’ve heard other people say.” “We aren’t allowed to repeat gossip,” urged Lark. . ." “No, and I think It’s a shame, too, for it’s awfully funny. Minnie Drake told me that Miss Yarne Joined the Methodist-church, as soon as she heard the new minister was a widower, so she—” “Carol!” Carol whirled around sharply, and flushed, and swallowed hard; For Prudence was just behind her. “I—I—I—” but she could get no furUpon occasion Prudence was quite terrible. “So I heard,” she said dryly, but her eyes w r ere hard. “Now run upstairs and out to- the field, or to the barn, and play. And, Carol, be sure and remind me of that speech tonight. I might forget It.” The girls ran quickly out, Carol well in the lead. >~* “No wedding fee for me,” she mumbled bitterly. "Somehow I just can’t help repeating—” “You don’t want to,” said Lark, not without sympathy.— “You think it’s such fun, you know.” • H:-'-"Well, anyhow, I’m sure I won’t get any cake tonight. It seems to me Prudence Is very—harsh sometimes.” - “*nu can appeal to father, if you like.”

The parsonage girls entertain a visiting minister, much to his discomfiture, —and Carol rides a cow with disastrous results. Mr. Starr, a widower Methodist minister, has been assigned to the congregation at Mount .Mark, lowa. He and his daughter Prudence—she is nineteen .and the eldest of five girls—have come on ahead to get the hew parsonage ready for the younger members of the family. Of course the whole town, especially the Methodists, is very curious about the newcomers. Individual members of the Ladies' Aid society drop in upon the family and “pump” the girls for all they're worth. But the Starrs rapidly adjust themselves to their new surroundings, and the father decides his brood is old enough to participate in family prayers. Little Connie has just finished hers much to the amusement of her elders.

Oo you think that Prudence Is a bit too young to handle the youngatera with proper discipline! ~ , (TO BE CONTINUED.,*

“Cows Have Such Funny Backs."