'Charge It': Keeping Up With Harry
XV
IN WHICH HARRY RETURNS TO POINTVIEW AND GOES TO WORK
"Betsey and I were giving a dinner-party at our house. Mr. and Mrs.Henry Delance and the Warburtons and Dan and Lizzie had come over todiscuss a plan for the correction of the greatest folly andextravagance in the village--namely, the waste of its spiritualenergy.
"At first we had to discuss a fact related to another folly, for theDelances told how Harry's pet collie had come up to the back door thatday with a human skull in his mouth. Of course I knew that Harry'sBishop had returned, but held my peace about it. To them it hadsuggested murder, and they had consulted the chief of police.
"HARRY'S PET COLLIE HAD COME UP TO THE BACK DOOR WITH AHUMAN SKULL IN HIS MOUTH"]
"'How do you know that it is not one of your ancestors dug up in aback pasture,' I said.
"'It might be William the Conqueror,' Lizzie remarked.
"'I deny it,' said Delance, in perfect good nature. 'We have resignedfrom William's family. As a matter of fact, I never joined it.'
"I congratulated him.
"'It has always seemed like the merest poppycock to me--thisgenealogical craze of the ladies,' said Henry. 'When our Londonsolicitor wrote that it would take another hundred pounds to establishthe connection beyond a doubt, he gave away the whole scheme, and Iresigned. It was too silly. In these days of titled chambermaids Ithink we shall worry along pretty well without William.'
"Then Betsey said: 'I was reading in the county history to-day thatold Zebulon Delance, who was killed in a fight with Indians in 1750,was buried in a meadow back of his house.'
"'It may be the skull of old Zeb,' said Henry.
"'Now there's an ancestor worth having,' I suggested.
"'I wonder if it can belong to old Zeb,' Henry mused.
"At last we got to my plan. I pictured the condition of the communityas I saw it, and the inefficiency of the church and the need of a newand active power in Pointview.
"I proposed that we buy the old skating-rink and remodel it, employthe best talent in America, and start a new center of power in thecommunity--a power that should, first of all, keep us sane, and thenas decent as possible. The mathematics of the enterprise were at myfingers' ends:
"Initial Expenses $15,000 "Annual Outlay for Instruction 8,000 "For Music 3,500 "For Maintenance 1,000 "For Management 3,500
"It was no small matter, but the initial expense and the first year'soutlay were subscribed in ten minutes. Betsey set the ball rollingwith an offer of ten thousand dollars, and then it was like shakingripe apples off a tree.
"'Who is to be the manager?' Delance wanted to know. 'It's a bigjob.'
"'I propose that we try Harry,' I said; 'in my opinion it willinterest him. I've had him in training for a year or so, and he'sabout ready for big work.'
"'I don't believe Harry can do it,' his father declared.
"'I should think it might not be to his taste,' said Bill Warburton.
"'But I have later and better information than the rest of you,' Isaid. 'If you will leave the matter in my hands you may hold meresponsible for the results.'
"They gave me the white card. I could do as I liked. The fact is, Ihad just had a letter from Harry which filled me with new hope. I haveit here."
The Honorable Socrates Potter took the letter from his pocket andsaid:
"You see, Harry has been discovering America. He is the Columbus ofour heiristocracy. His mental map has been filled with great citiesand splendid hotels, and thrifty towns and enormous areas of wheat andcorn, and astonishing distances and sublime mountain scenes. Moreover,he has learned the joys of a simple life; he had to. Of course, heknew of these things, but feebly and without pride, as one knows theTetons who has never seen them. Leaving in May, he stopped in all thebig cities, and finished his journey from the railroad with astage-ride of some ninety miles. Of the stage-ride and other matters,he writes thus:
"'On the front seat with the driver sat a lady smoking a cigar, who,now and then, offered us a drink from a bottle. At her side was a ladywith a wooden leg, and a hen in her hand. You know every woman is alady out here. The driver swore at the horses, the hen swore at thelady, and several of the passengers swore at each other, and it wasall done in the most amiable spirit. Two rough-necks sat beside me whokept shooting with revolvers at sage-hens as they--the men, not thehens--irrigated the tires with tobacco-juice. At the next stop I gotinto a row with a one-eyed professor of elocution, because he said Icarried too much for the size of my mule, an' didn't speak proper. Heobjected to my pronunciation, and I to his choice of words. In theargument his revolver took sides with him. I got one of my toes loppedwith a bullet, and the lady who carried the cigar and the bottle tookme to her home and nursed me like a mother, and the lady with thewooden leg brought me strawberries every day and sang to me and toldme some good stories. I had thought it was a God-forsaken country,but, you see, I was wrong. There's more real practical Christianityamong these people than I ever saw before, and it's hard work to be anass here. The way of the ass is full of trouble, and I begin tounderstand why you wanted me to come out to Wyoming. The people arerough, but as kind as angels. Felt like turning back, but these womenput new heart in me, especially the wooden-legged one.
"'"We don't like parlor talk out here," she said; "it ain't consideredgood ettikit. Folks don't mind a little, but if it goes too fur it'sconsidered insultin' an' everybody begins to speak to ye like he wastalkin' to a balky mule."
"'I went on as soon as I was able, and spent the whole summer on theback of a cayuse. Got lost in the mountains; went hungry and cold likethe wolf, as Garland puts it, for three days; had to think my way backto camp. It was the best schooling in geography and logic and Americanhumanity that I ever had. Every man at the ranch, and the women, hadbeen out hunting for me. I offered them money, but they woudn't take acent--the joy of seeing me was enough. They haven't a smitch of therevolting money-hunger of the average European. With all its faults Iam proud of my country. I want you to find a good, big American jobfor me.
"'I have been reading the Bishop of St. Clare, who says: "There hathbeen more energy expended in swaggering about with full bellies and aburden of needless fat than would move the island to the main shore.If thy purse be used to buy immunity from work, it secureth immunityfrom manhood; and what is a man without manhood?"
"'There is the American idea for you.
"'Deacon Joe has got to change his mind about me. Marie has onlywritten me one letter, and that was a frost. If you have any influencewith the girl, don't let her get engaged to that parson.'
Socrates laughed as he put the letter away, and went on:
"Well, Harry came back, browned and brawny, with his cayuse, saddle,and sombrero, and a shooting-iron half as long as my arm.
"He came here for a talk with me the day after his arrival. Thesubject of a lifework was pressing on him.
"'Have you seen Zeb?' was his first query.
"'Zeb?' I asked. 'Who is Zeb?'
"'That dear old, irrepressible bishop,' said Harry. 'They have dug himup and named him Zeb, and put him on a top shelf in the library. Theythink he is one of our great-grandfathers.'
"'Oh, he has been promoted,' I remarked.
"Harry went on:
"'My dog is responsible for the reappearance of the bishop. I took himwith me that night, and he knew where to find it. Father is sure thatit's the head of old Zeb Delance.'
"'Let the Bishop rest where he is,' I suggested. 'Now that he hasconverted you, he will probably let up. At least, let us hope that hewill not worry you. Of course he will remind you of past follies everytime you look at him, but that will do you no harm.'
"'Oh, I couldn't forget him! Father has been reading up on Zeb, and hedoes nothing but talk about him. He has learned that the Indiansburied the head and burned the body of a victim.'
"'He symbo
lizes the change in your taste. Zeb was a man of action--aworker. What do you propose to do now?'
"'Well, I have thought some of following Dan into agriculture.'
"'Don't,' was my answer. 'You're not the type for that kind of a job.Dan was brought up to work with his hands. I fear that you would be aFifth Avenue farmer.'
"'Well, what would you say to a plant for the manufacture ofaeroplanes? I stopped at Dayton and looked into the matter, andlearned to fly. I have ordered a biplane, and it will be delivered inthe spring.'
"I vetoed that plan, and asked where he proposed to settle.
"'Right here--if possible,' said Harry.
"'Good! There's one thing about your family tree that I like, and youought to be proud of it. Your forebears, having been treated withshameless oppression, came to these inhospitable shores in 1630. Theyneedn't have done it if they had been willing to knuckle down and saythey liked crow when they didn't. They wouldn't do that, so they leftthe old sod and ventured forth in a little sailing-vessel on themighty deep. It required some courage to do that. They landed safely,and for nearly three hundred years their descendants have lived andworked and suffered all manner of hardships in New England. It's aproper thing, Harry, that you should do your work where, mostly, theydid their work--in dear old Connecticut.'
"'And besides, it's the home of Marie,' he said.
"'And let us consider what there is to be done in the home of Marie,'I went on. 'Here in the very town where so many of your fathers havelived and worked we find a singular parade of folly. The idle richfrom a near city are closing in upon us. Many of the Yankees haveacquired property and ceased to work. Back in the distant hills theytoil not, but live from hand to mouth in a pitiful state ofdegeneration. The work of the hand is almost entirely that ofItalians, Poles, Hungarians, and Greeks.
"'Our tradesmen have a low code of honor. They overcharge us for thenecessities of life. Many of them have been caught cheating. Our wivesand sons and daughters are living beyond their means, as if ignorantof the fact that it is the beginning of dishonesty. Our poverty ismostly that of the soul. The churches are dying, and the sabbath isdead. What we need is a return to the honor, sanity, and common senseof old New England, which gave of its fullness to the land we love.Let's start a school of old-fashioned decency and Americanism. Let'scall it the Church of All Faiths and make it a center of power.'
"I laid the scheme before him in all its details, and then--
"'I'm with you,' he said, 'and I think I can see Knowles moving andDeacon Joe coming down off his high horse.'
"'Possibly we could use Knowles,' I suggested. 'There'll be a lot ofdetail.'
"'But only as a kind of clerk,' said Harry.
"As a kind of clerk, I agreed. 'We shall need a number of clerks. Iintend that every family within ten miles shall be visited at leastonce a week. We shall not only let our light shine, but we shall makeit shine into every human heart in this community. If they're toocallous we'll punch a hole with our trusty blade and let the light in.The lantern and the rapier shall be our weapons.'
"Harry was full of enthusiasm. He had met Marie on the street, and shewas glad to learn that he was going to work.
"'Incidentally, I hope to win your grandfather's consent,' he had saidto her.
"And she had answered: 'If you could do that I should think you werean extremely able young man.'
"'And worthy of the best girl living?' Harry had urged.
"'That's too extravagant,' Marie had said as she left him.
"Harry went to work with me at once. He bought the rink and the groundbeneath it and some more alongside. We spent days and nights with anarchitect making and remaking the plans, and by and by we knew thatwe were right. Soon the contractor began his work, and in three monthswe had finished the most notable meeting-house of modern times.
"The walls were tinted a rich cream color, the woodwork was paintedwhite. There were new carpets in the aisles, and between themcomfortable seats for nine hundred people. The fine old pulpit fromwhich Jonathan Edwards had preached his first sermon was the center ofa little garden of ferns and palms and vines and mosses, all growingin good ground, with a small fountain in their midst--a symbol ofpurity. A great sheet of plate glass behind the pulpit showed athicket of evergreens. High above the pulpit was another big sheet ofglass, through which one got a broad view of the sky, and it wasframed in these words: 'The heavens declare the glory of God and thefirmament showeth his handiwork.'
"The walls were adorned with handsome pictures loaned by my friends.On one wall were these modern commandments, most of which were gleanedfrom the masterly volume entitled _The Life and Writings of RobertDelance, Bishop of St. Clare_, which Harry had found in a Londonbookstore:
"1. 'Be grateful unto God, for He hath given thee life, time, and thisbeautiful world. Other things thou shalt find for thyself.'
"2. 'Be brave with thy life, for it is very long.'
"3. 'Waste no time, for thy time is very little.'
"4. 'See that this world is the better for thy work and kindness.'
"5. 'Doubt not the truth of that thy senses tell thee, for thy God isno deceiver.'
"6. 'Love the truth and live it, for no one is long deceived bylying.'
"7. 'Give not unto the beast and neglect thy brother.'
"8. 'Go find thy brothers in the world and see that these be many, fora man's strength and happiness are multiplied by the number of hisbrothers.'
"9. 'Beware lest thy wealth come between thee and them and tend tothine own poverty and theirs.'
"10. 'Suffer little children to come unto thee, for of such is thekingdom of heaven.'
"The simple-hearted old Bishop had just the philosophy we needed. Itseemed to have been carefully designed to meet the inventiveness ofthe modern sinner. He was turning out well and had already exerted awholesome influence on the character of Harry. Would that allancestors were as well chosen!
"We did not wish to hinder the other churches, and that spirit wentinto all our plans. First, then, we decided that our services shouldbegin at twelve o'clock every Sunday, and close at one or beforetwenty minutes after one. That gave our parishioners a chance to goto the other churches if they wanted to. I traveled from Boston to St.Louis, and returned _via_ Washington, to engage talent for our pulpit.I wanted the best that this land afforded, and was prepared to pay itsprice. I engaged nine ministers, distinguished for eloquence andlearning, three Governors, the Mayor of a Western city, two UnitedStates Senators, one Congressman, and a Justice of the Supreme Courtof the land. They were all great-souled men, who had shown in word andaction a touch of the spirit of Jesus Christ. Some of them had beenthrowing light into dark places and driving money-changers from thetemple and casting out devils. They were all qualified to enlightenand lift up our souls.
"I asked that their lessons should be drawn from the lives of themodern prophets--Abraham Lincoln, Silas Wright, Daniel Webster,Charles Sumner, Henry Clay, Noah Webster, George William Curtis,Ralph Waldo Emerson, Sidney Lanier, Horace Greeley, and others likethem. What I sought most was an increase of the love of honor and therespect for industry in our young men and women. Holiness was a thingfor later consideration, it seemed to me.
"I put a full-page advertisement in each local paper, which read aboutas follows:
"'The Church of All Faiths.
"'Built especially for sinners and for good people who wish to bebetter.
"'Will begin its work in this community Sunday, June 19th, at twelveo'clock, with a sermon by Socrates Potter, Esq., of Pointview, inwhich he will set forth his view of what a church should do, and anaccount of what this church proposes to do, for its parishioners.Other churches are cordially invited to worship, and to work with usfor the good of Pointview.'
"The curiosity of all the people had been whetted to a keen edge. Theyhad begged for information, but Betsey and I had said that theyshould know all about it in due time. I had given my plan to thecontributors only, and they were to keep still about it.
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"Sometimes silence is the best advertisement, and certain men who seemto be so modest that they are shocked by the least publicity are thegreatest advertisers in the world. The man who hides his candle undera bushel is apt to be the one whose candle is best known. So ithappened with us. Nine hundred and sixteen people filled the seats inour church that morning by twelve o'clock, and two hundred more weretrying to get in.
"At the next service an honored minister whose soul is even greaterthan his fame preached for us, and that week a petition came to me,signed by six hundred citizens, complaining that the hour wasinconvenient, and asking that it be changed to 10.30 A.M. I believe inthe voice of the people, and obeyed it; but I knew what would happen,and it did. The other churches were deserted and silent. One by onetheir ministers came to see me--all save one old gentleman in whom thebrimstone of wrath had begun to burn more fiercely. We needed and wereglad to have the help of two of them. There were the sick and the poorto be visited; there were weddings and funerals and countless detailsin the organization of the new church to be attended to.
"I ought to tell you that a curious and unexpected thing had happened.Fisherfolk, street gamins, caddies, loafers on the docks and in thelivery stables, millionaires and million-heiresses--people who hadthought themselves either above or below religion--came to ourmeetings. Each resembled in numbers a political rally.
"We have started an improvement school for Sunday evenings, in whichthe great story is told in lectures and fine photographs thrown on ascreen. And not only the great story, but any story calculated toinspire and enlighten the youthful mind. The best of the world's workand art and certain of the great novels will be presented in this way.I am going to get the great men of the world to give us three-minutesermons on the phonograph. Thus I hope to make it possible for ourpeople to hear the voices and sentiments of kings, presidents,premiers, statesmen, and prophets--the men and women who are makinghistory.
"We have started a small country club where poor boys and girls canenjoy billiards, bowling, golf, and tennis. Any boy or girl in thistown who has a longing for better things is sought and found by ourministers, and all kinds of encouragement are offered. People andclergy of almost every faith that is known here in Pointview areworking side by side for one purpose. Think of that! The revolutionhas been complete and mainly peaceful. As to the expense of it all,we tax the rich, and for the rest we temper the wind to the length oftheir wool.
"Of course, there were certain people who didn't like it, and amongthem was Deacon Joe. He and four others hired a minister, and sat inlonely sorrow in the old church every Sunday, until the expensesickened them. Then the Deacon got mad at the town, and refused to beseen in it.
"'Reach everybody,' had been one of our mottoes, and Deacon Joe saidthat he guessed we wouldn't reach him."