Page 7 of Prairie Folks


  VI.

  Radbourn was thinking about him, two days after, as he sat in his friendJudge Brown's law office, poring over a volume of law. He saw thatBacon's treatment had been heroic; he couldn't get that pitifulconfusion of the preacher's face out of his mind. But, after all,Bacon's seizing of just that instant was a stroke of genius.

  Some one touched him on the arm.

  "Why,--Elder,--Mr. Pill, how de do? Sit down. Draw up a chair."

  There was trouble in the preacher's face. "Can I see you, Radbourn,alone?"

  "Certainly; come right into this room. No one will disturb us there."

  "Now, what can I do for you?" he said, as they sat down.

  "I want to talk with you about--about religion," said Pill, with alittle timid pause in his voice.

  Radbourn looked grave. "I'm afraid you've come to a dangerous man."

  "I want you to tell me what you think. I know you're a student. I wantto talk about my case," pursued the preacher, with a curious hesitancy."I want to ask a few questions on things."

  "Very well; sail in. I'll do the best I can," said Radbourn.

  "I've been thinking a good deal since that night. I've come to theconclusion that I don't believe what I've been preaching. I thought Idid, but I didn't. I don't know _what_ I believe. Seems as if the landhad slid from under my feet. What am I to do?"

  "Say so," replied Radbourn, his eyes kindling. "Say so, and get out ofit. There's nothing worse than staying where you are. What have yousaved from the general land-slide?"

  Pill smiled a little. "I don't know."

  "Want me to cross-examine you and see, eh? Very well, here goes." Hesettled back with a smile. "You believe in square dealing between manand man?"

  "Certainly."

  "You believe in good deeds, candor and steadfastness?"

  "I do."

  "You believe in justice, equality of opportunity, and in liberty?"

  "Certainly I do."

  "You believe, in short, that a man should do unto others as he'd haveothers do unto him; think right and live out his thoughts?"

  "All that I steadfastly believe."

  "Well, I guess your land-slide was mostly imaginary. The face of theeternal rock is laid bare. You didn't recognize it at first, that's all.One question more. You believe in truth?"

  "Certainly."

  "Well, truth is only found from the generalizations of facts. Beforecalling a thing true, study carefully all accessible facts. Make yourreligion practical. The matter-of-fact tone of Bacon would have had noforce if you had been preaching an earnest morality in place of anantiquated terrorism."

  "I know it; I know it," sighed Pill, looking down.

  "Well, now, go back and tell 'em so. And then, if you can't keep yourplace preaching what you do believe, get into something else. For thesake of all morality and manhood, don't go on cursing yourself withhypocrisy."

  Mr. Pill took a chew of tobacco, rather distractedly, and said:

  "I'd like to ask you a few questions."

  "No, not now. You think out your present position yourself. Find outjust what you have saved from your land-slide."

  The elder man rose; he hardly seemed the same man who had dominated hispeople a few days before. He turned with still greater embarrassment.

  "I want to ask a favor. I'm going back to my family. I'm going to saysomething of what you've said, to my congregation--but--I'm in debt--andthe moment they know I'm a backslider, they're going to bear down on mepretty heavy. I'd like to be independent."

  "I see. How much do you need?" mused Radbourn.

  "I guess two hundred would stave off the worst of them."

  "I guess Brown and I can fix that. Come in again to-night. Or no, I'llbring it round to you."

  The two men parted with a silent pressure of the hand that meant morethan any words.

  When Mr. Pill told his wife that he could preach no more, she cried, andgasped, and scolded till she was in danger of losing her breathentirely. "A guinea-hen sort of a woman" Councill called her. "She cantalk more an' say less'n any woman I ever see," was Bacon's verdict,after she had been at dinner at his house. She was a perpetual irritant.

  Mr. Pill silenced her at last with a note of impatience approaching athreat, and he drove away to the Corners to make his confession withouther. It was Saturday night, and Elder Wheat was preaching as he enteredthe crowded room. A buzz and mumble of surprise stopped the orator for afew moments, and he shook hands with Mr. Pill dubiously, not knowingwhat to think of it all, but as he was in the midst of a very effectiveoratorical scene, he went on.

  The silent man at his side felt as if he were witnessing a burlesque ofhimself as he listened to the pitiless and lurid description of tormentwhich Elder Wheat poured forth--the same figures and threats he had useda hundred times. He stirred uneasily in his seat, while the audiencepaid so little attention that the perspiring little orator finallycalled for a hymn, saying:

  "Elder Pill has returned from his unexpected absence, and will exhort inhis proper place."

  When the singing ended, Mr. Pill rose, looking more like himself thansince the previous Sunday. A quiet resolution was in his eyes and voiceas he said:

  "Elder Wheat has more right here than I have. I want 'o say that I'mgoing to give up my church in Douglass and"---- A murmur broke out,which he silenced with his raised hand. "I find I don't believe anylonger what I've been believing and preaching. Hold on! let me go on. Idon't quite know where I'll bring up, but I think my religion willsimmer down finally to about this: A full half-bushel to the half-busheland sixteen ounces to the pound." Here two or three cheered. "Do untoothers as you'd have others do unto you." Applause from several, quicklysuppressed as the speaker went on, Elder Wheat listening as ifpetrified, with his mouth open.

  "I'm going out of preaching, at least for the present. After things getinto shape with me again, I may set up to teach people how to live, butjust now I can't do it. I've got all I can do to instruct myself. Justone thing more. I owe two or three of you here. I've got the money forWilliam Bacon, James Bartlett and John Jennings. I turn the mare andcutter over to Jacob Bensen, for the note he holds. I hain't got muchreligion left, but I've got some morality. That's all I want to saynow."

  When he sat down there was a profound hush; then Bacon arose.

  "That's _man's_ talk, that is! An' I jest want 'o say, Andrew Pill, thatyou kin jest forgit you owe me anything. An' if ye want any help come tome. Y're jest gittun' ready to preach, 'n' I'm ready to give ye mysupport."

  "That's the talk," said Councill. "I'm with ye on that."

  Pill shook his head. The painful silence which followed was broken bythe effusive voice of Wheat:

  "Let us pray--and remember our lost brother."

  * * * * *

  The urgings of the people were of no avail. Mr. Pill settled up hisaffairs, and moved to Cresco, where he went back into trade with afriend, and for three years attended silently to his customers, liveddown their curiosity and studied anew the problem of life. Then he movedaway, and no one knew whither.

  One day, last year, Bacon met Jennings on the road.

  "Heerd anything o' Pill lately?"

  "No; have you?"

  "Waal, yes. Brown told me he ran acrost him down in Eelinoy, doun' well,too."

  "In dry goods?"

  "No, preachun'."

  "Preachun'?"

  "So Brown said. Kind of a free-f'r-all church, I reckon from what Jedgetold me. Built a new church, fills it twice a Sunday. I'd like to hearhim, but he's got t' be too big a gun f'r us. Ben studyun', they say;went t' school."

  Jennings drove sadly and thoughtfully on.

  "Rather stumps Brother Jennings," laughed Bacon, in his leoninefashion.

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