Press enter after choosing selection

The Devil's Auction

The Devil's Auction image
Parent Issue
Day
13
Month
April
Year
1882
Copyright
Public Domain
OCR Text

J t was, to bé sure, a terrible storm the very first severe storm of the win ter. The wind came bowling from th northeast with his atteudant train o snow and sleet, and making pretty close work for Parson Spinney as h breasted his way through the drifts which lay between the parsonage doo and the church door, in the snug vil lage of Covedale. Mra Spinney was close behind him, vainly . trying to shield her thick fonn beíiiud his thin one, and tuining her head sideways to catch his words as he said, "In some places tliere wouldn't be a dozen out on such a Sundy as this but here I think I am pretty sure of a goodly congregation. Deacon A., Chorister B., and Organist C. have never 'ailed me ; neither have the Woodard listera, nor Mrs. Price aud her daughter." "You haven't been here very long dear," puffed Mrs. Spinney, who was very short, very stout, and consequently very short-breathed. "I know it," replied the parson. "This is the ürst Sunday tliat will really show the stuff of which our people are made, but I shall not have to preach to empty walls, I'm sure." For once the parson reckoned out lus host. Neither the deacon nor the chorister nor the organist was present, and the tried sisters upon whom he had so conOdently reckoaed, were among the misjing ones. In fact, beside the pastor'a wif e there was only one woman, and that a poor old body, who had sparse comfort at home, and carne a long half mile in her thin garments to give thanks ior the good alie had and to seek the spiritual comfort which is more than the temporal to every true believer. There were also three men who lived just across the street, and the sexton, who being a very near man, as the neighbors said, kept up a subdued grumbling at the unnecessary loss of f uel since it was just as well to have it understood that on stormy Sundays there would be ao ervices; and then he should not feel jbliged to keep a fire to warm people who never come. "There wouldn't nobody take a horse out to-day," said one of the three men in excuse lor his townspeople, '■'twould rough their hair all up for winter." "Some are afraid for their liorses, aud some are afraid for their own clothes," said the poor woman, "but I never have seen the time that I hadn't something to wear that a storm wouldn't hurt, and I aui thankf ui for that." The arrived, the bell tolled, the pastor read and prayed, and gave the six souls a pleasant, helpíul little talk. Tlie pastor'a wife sang a hymn, the benediction was pronounced and they all made the best of their way to their homes ag.iln through the raging storm. There was a cloud on the pastor's face as he plougued his way along, which was notlifted wheu he met Tean Dascomb, a reckless, ne'er-do-well who was taking a short cut across the village green toward the hotel. "Morning, parson; 'scuse me for not liftin'my hat; 'n lady, too, but fact is it s tied on. Beg pardon too for takiu' head of the column, but thought p'raps you wouldn't object to walking in the steps oi' the nngodly for once," and he kicked the snow to the right and left and stamped it down with nis huge cowhide boots, looking back through the fresh cloud of snow he had evolved from lus path making him to say interrogatively, "Not much of a crowd, I reckon?' "As many as were to be expected, perhaps, when the weather is considered," replied the parson coldly, not wishing to encourage this wayward fellow in criticising his people for their neglect of duty. Jean gave a knowing laugh and continued, "The Hall place- house, farm, furniture, tools and stock is to be sold at auction to-morrow. There is no likelihood of its clearing off to-night, but the weather won't prevent there being a crowd. I have been around all the morning scattering bilis. Got just one left ; have it?" and giving a doublé 8huffle to brush the snow off the parsonage door-step, he thrust an "Order of sale" into the niinister's hand, made another comical bow, and went on his way. The old Huil place was delightfully situated on Prospect Ilill, two miles from the village n a road which any number of charming names could not render anything but bleak and dreary. The farm had been for years one of the mo3t prosperous in the township, where a liberal hospitality had been dispensed, and there were not many people in the vicinjty who had not pleasant a3sociation connected with the house. The parson thought a good deal about Jean Dascomb's words as he lay awake in the night watches, listen ing to the wind as it loared up the street, rattling the loese blinds of the parsonage Windows, lashing the bare, lithe branches of the great willow trees with which Covedale abounded, and piling the snow, which feil continually, into fantastic heaps. He was up at the flret gleam of dawn' iooking forth upou the dreary landscape. The wind had not subsided, the snow was still falling and the roads were seemingly impassable. "1 don't believe people will turn out to an auction on such a day as this," he said to his wife as he carne in from attending to the wants of the cow and horse, which were snugly ensconed in the small parsonage barn. But in spite of this confldent assertion he kept a close watch on the street. The bidding at the auction was advertised to begin at ten, and before eiftht the old street was fairly awake. There was much running to and fro among the barns and sbeds, and soon a long string of oxen and steers, hitched to a large wood-sled loaded with boys armed with snow-shovels went gaily forth toward Prospect Hill and the Huil auction. Directly behind thetn went Deacon A., with his span, and team followed team in such rapid succession that the track was kept well open ; and before ten o'clock the pastor harnessed up his horse, took his plump, good-natured, wife, and feil into the procession. Of course it was absurd in the extreme, but it was against Mr. Spinney's rules to settle down in his study on Monday. Then, too, he had a sly vein of humor, and enjoyed to the full the sarprised looks of his people as he and his good wife, seemingly blew out of a snow wreath on the farm-house stoop. It was a roomy old dwelling ; huge lires blazed from many lire-places, and the people moved about exchanging reminiscences of what happened when ttaey were here to ".Tohu's wedding " "Isaac's freedom party," and "Sarah 's funeral." The minister and bis wife alone had no suggestive iremory to bring uu but they strolled f rom room to roem' admiring the ancient furniture and' crockery, the delicate linen, and the wonderful patch-work quilts. thepride of many generations of Hulls, now to be knocked down to the highest bidder But the bidders were all family friends : that was a consolation, Mrsl Spinney' remarked, pleasantly, as she chatted famiharly with one and another. As the minister and his wife passed group alter group in their tour of the rooms, they heard more than one alluSion as to "what I thought yesterday " or "what I said yesterday," about the auction, but not a word about the church service that they hadneglected There was Deacou A., and Chorister 15., and Organist C, and- yes, indeed, -the tried sisters whom he had looked for in vain the day before. The barns and ampie sbeds were f uil of horses and there was not a word said about its "roughing up their hair" to be out in such a storm. It seemei as if everybody who in any way could have been expected, was there, excepting the auctioneer. He lived in the next county, was to come by rail, and there had not been a train through. As there was no one to take his place, the people waited and talked, and listeaed for a locomotive whistle, and the auction promised to be, to all ntents and purposes- except in a social point- a failure. The auctioneer's block stood in the center of the long kitcheu, and as the paraou stood by it, looking at the bell and the-wooden mallet which were eady for use, some one asked respectully: "What were you intending to buy, paison? Itisapity you should have your long, cold ride for nothing, and pcrhaps you can manage to make your purchase by private sale." I didn't coine to bid," said the pas:or, in a tone loud enough for all in the oom to hear. "If I should teil you ust how 1 happened to come, it would be quite a story." 'Oh, teil it, Mr. Spinney !" "Teil it, parson!" "Pray de!""Pleafe do!" Some one rang the bell to cali the people from the different rooms, and as they came crowding in, the minister, omehow, was hustled upon the aucioneer's block. He stood there grace'ully, with the air of one accustomed o looking down upon mimy faces, and s a little hush of expectancy feil upon he gathering, he said: "Last night I went to bed feeling very depressed and melancholy, and I was visited by a ream that sent ïne off over here this morning to look alter iny flock. "I dreained, my friends, that the evil carne to cali on me, and as I met im at my study door, I said, 'You are howing me much more attention than has ever been shown me by the great majority of my parishioners.' I thought e looked somewhat weary, and upon emarking upon the i'act he said: " 'Yes, l'astor Spinney, l'm fagged ut. The fact is, I have too much to o. Now, today, for instance, I have eeu around among your people scatering auetion bilis, and you couldn't ave had much of a conerregation. for I tound overybouy at home, and what is inore, I found them ready to talk auction. Now I tell yon, Pastor Spinney,' the devil weat ou to say, 'if you want to see your people together just go to that auction to-morrow. The ringing of a ehurch bell for any oceasion whatever will not get your people ou but they will not neglectthat auetion. The women who would not put off their washing on account of sickness, death or a funeral, or a religious meeting of any kind, will put it off to go to that auction. The horses that it would iujure past. recovery to be driven to churcli in a storm, will not be liurt in the least by being driven far pasí the chureh, in a worse storm, to the IIull auction, where there will be an ampie and delicious free lunch, plenty of good eider, unlimited opportunities to gossip, and chance for close bargains. I tell you, Pastor Spinney.' continued the devil with a grin, 'you might just as well pack up and move away, for conscience is dead in tjka town- stoue dead, and il' you want to prove it, go to-morrow, while the empty pews you fomid to-day are fresh in your niind, to the IIull auction; and if you put the questlon plainly to any one of your people, they will not deny that "auction" has engaged their attention to-day much more than gospel.' "I told the devil I didn't believe a word he said, but that I would go as he advised - and - by what I have seen - I begin to think the devil is not so much of a liar as he has been represented. "1 think conscience tí dead, and we are all here together and there isn't anything particular going on, perhaps we had better have a funeral, and then there will be nothing to prevent my pickiug up and going away, as the devil suggested. What do you say, brothers and sisters?" The people who had listened eagerly to every word now looked from one to another in consternation, while the pastor waited, allowing bis eyes to wander from face to face. Soon Deacon A. spoke up in a quavering voice : "Half an hour ago I should have been willing to testify that conscience was at its last gasp in this town, but since the pastor has spoken, I feel it struggling niightily in my own heart; and by the look on the faces of my brothers and sisters around me, I arn conüdent that they, too, are feeling signs of its returning life. 1 think, brothers and sisters, it would be better to pray that conscience be restored to life and activity in our hearts, than that we hold a funeral service over its remains." One aud another eagerly agreed to this suggestion in a few honest, earnest words of sorrow for neglect of christian duty. Jean Dascomb saiá, af ter a while: "I didn't feel over much complimented at lirst, by the pareon's putting my talk into the devil's mouth, but if it should be the means of waking up conscience that has been dead-asleep in my heart for years, I should be thankf ui ; and 1 believe that is what is being done, for I have not feit so strangely since 1 was a lad kneeling with my mother in prayer," and the rough young man brushed the swif tly falliag tears from his brown cheeks. That was a sign for a general breakibg down, and the short winter afternoon was passed in a profitableprayermeeting, which was the fïrst of a series of meetings in the vicinity which lasted throughout the long, stonny winter, and shook tho old town of Co védale, to its spiritual oeutre.

Article

Subjects
Old News
Ann Arbor Democrat