A Ne7v Engla7id Village Quilting Faf/y in the Olden Times. 237
��" So," cries Molly Mansfield, half in jest and half in earnest, " you all agree with me in wishing he were dead? "
'•Yes, Molly," Hannah Blair re- sponds, " so say we all."
"■ Not I, not I," objects Miss Ange- line Hartwell, we never shall find a better man."
'•' We never shall find," replies Miss Blair, " a worse one."
"Nor one," asserts Mrs Rackett, taking a pinch of Macaboy snuff, "■ more obstinate."
"Nor one," interposes Mrs. Rugby, " more dull and prosy."
" Nor one," ejaculates Aunt Tabitha, "more old-fashioned."
" Nor one," rejoins Miss INIolly Mansfield, " more destitute of ever)'- thing that makes a minister, and we wish, we wish — "
But hush ; the knocker ! Who comes now? It is the minister himself. It is the Rev. John Baxter in his faded cam- let cloak and shocking beaver hat ; — a man of sixty years, at least, of reverent, but;, genial face, who for more than thirty years had labored with his hand, as well as brain in this little village to keep himself and family alive on his scanty salar}' of $300 a year, and who had grouTi gray in his endeavors to upraise the minds and morals of his people.
" The minister has come," says Mrs. Benson in an audible whisper to the quilters ; " the minister."
How still the tongues ! How busily the fingers fly ! Consciences are whis- pering, cheeks are reddening.
With a smiling countenance, Mr. Bax- ter enters the quilting room and gives the kindly salutation :
" Good afternoon, ladies, I am very glad to see you all so busily engaged ia quilting here for our good friend Mrs. Benson. He passes around the frame and cordially shakes hands with every
��one of them and they all in turn ex- claim : " We are so happy, sir, (has anything such mobility as the invisible spirit ? ) to see you here ; we feared lest something might detain you ; we hope you left your family all well and that you will stay to tea with us."
" I will," says he, " with all my heart ; but let me not hinder you in your quilt- ing, ladies, nor interrupt your profitable conversation."
Here, blushes tinged some cheeks again and eyes were fixed intent upon the needle work.
Turning now to Miss Molly Mansfield, Mr. Baxter says approvingly : " I was pleased to see yourself and father and mother at Church last Sabbath."
" We were glad to be there, sir," re- plies Miss Molly, brushing away her raven ringlets, " for you had, as you al- ways do, an excellent sermon; my father enjoyed it very much, and so did my mother and I."
" I 'm glad you think so, Molly," re- plies the minister, "the subject was, you well remember, Evil Speaking, from the text ; * The tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity,' and so indeed it is, when unrestrained."
" I think so, too," Miss Mansfield tremulously responds, " and I shall trj^ to govern mine."
Mr. Baxter little dreams how close the arrow cuts ; but as Sir Walter Scott has said :
" Many a shaft, at random sent. Finds mark the archer never meant."
Turning now to INIrs. Rackett, the minister kindly enquires : " How, madam, is your husband to-day ? Has he tried my wife's receipt for his rheu- matism? Have the children recovered from the measles so as to attend school again? "
" They are getting better," she re- plies in a winsome tone, " and we all
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