The Preacher of Cedar Mountain: A Tale of the Open Country
CHAPTER LV
In the Absence of Belle
Every citizen of South Chicago remembers the work of the Cedar MountainHouse; how it grew and prospered, and how the old building became toosmall and an annex across the street was called for. How its greateststrength lay in the monthly free discussion of _any subject_ approved inadvance by the governors. How the rival parties of Skystein and Squeaksalternately pulled and pushed each other about. How musical genius wasdiscovered in abundance and an orchestra formed as well as a monthlyminstrel show. How pool tables were introduced and a restaurant started.How the movement to introduce beer was defeated by a small majority.How, after due discussion, they adopted some seemingly hard policies,such as the exclusion of all Negroes and Chinamen. How Squeaks led anabortive attempt to disqualify all Jews. How the gymnasium became thefocal centre of all the boys in the neighbourhood. How they organized astrong-arm squad of a dozen club members who acted as police, andwithout offense, because they were of themselves. At the end of thefirst six months, the House had more than justified its existence. Ithad nearly four hundred members and was doing work that in a higherstate of civilization would be the proper care of the government.
It would have been hard to say who was the chief. Belle had been theplanner and executor and now was not only a governor, but secretary andhead of the women's department, on a fair business basis. But the growthof power in Jim was obvious. It had all been very new to his ways ofthinking and, after all, Links and Chicago have little in common. Bellehad a business training that was essential, and her quick judgmenthelped at every turn for it is a fact that second-class judgment rightnow is better than first-class judgment to-morrow. The full measure ofher helpfulness in bearing the burdens was made transparently clear by asudden crisis in their affairs. A telegram from Cedar Mountain arrivedfor Belle.
Mother very ill. Come at once--FATHER.
It was impossible for both to go, so Belle set off alone for CedarMountain, leaving Jim in charge of the flock at the Mountain House.Alone--he didn't think it possible to feel alone in such a crowd. Hiswork was doubled in the absence of Belle, although Dr. Mary Mudd gavenot a little help in the mothers' department. It was a good thing forJim to find out just how much he owed to his wife. There was acontinuous stream of callers at the office with requests or complaints.These had all been met by Belle. She had an even poise, a gentleconsideration for all, and certain helpful rules that reduced thestrain, such as exact hours for work, one call at a time, and writtencomplaints only. Jim's anxiety to placate and smooth out led him toundertake too much, and the result was a deluge of small matters ofwhich he had previously known nothing. The exasperating accumulation ofannoyances and attacks, in spite of all his best and kindest endeavours,invoked a new light.
"Oh, if Belle were only here!" was his repeated thought. "I don't knowhow she manages, but she does. It's mighty strange how few of theseannoyances came up when she was in the office." He began to realize moreand more her ability. "She has more judgment, more tact than any of us;she has been meeting these things all along, and saving me from them bysettling them without me. Yes, she's wiser than I am in such matters."
So he wrote her of his troubles. He detailed many cases in point andadded: "We miss you awfully; every one in the House complains. I haven'tgot your cleverness and tact. It seems as if I made enemies every time Itried to make friends. Come back as soon as you can." And if the truthmust be told there was a little flush of pleasure and triumph in hersoul. "Now he knows what I have known so long." And who shall blame herfor gloating a little over the deacons who, in the beginning, wereunwilling to recognize her? But she had to send a discouraging reply.For the angel of destiny said: "No, it is now time for him to walkalone" and the telegram ran:
Cannot come; Mother is very low.
After the first shock of disappointment he braced up, and, like a manwho has been retreating and who knows in his heart that he never meantto make a stand as long as some one else could be depended on, heupbraided himself and turned to face the fight. "There is a way of doingit all, and I can do it." And in the resolve to win he found newstrength. In many small, but puzzling matters, he got guidance in thepractical sayings of men like Lincoln and Grant: "Be sure you are right,then go ahead"; "Every one has some rights"; "In case of doubt, go thegentle way"; "Never hunt for trouble." These were samples of the homelywisdom that helped him and proved that the old proverbs are old wisdomin shape for new use.
One man came to complain that a member had been drunk and disorderly ata certain other place the night before. A year ago, Jim would have saidthat it was a disgrace and that he would make a thorough investigation,which would have meant assuming a special guardianship of each and everymember all the time. Wiser now, he said, "Since it was not on ourpremises, we have no knowledge of the matter." On the other hand, it wasa serious affair when a member brought in a bottle of strong drink andtreated a number of weak friends until there was a wild orgy going on inone of the rooms, in spite of official protests from those in charge.This was clearly high treason; and repressing a disposition to gloss itover, Hartigan expelled the principal and suspended the seconds for longperiods.
During a boyish contest in the gymnasium, a man somewhat in liquor,shouted out a string of oaths at the youngsters. Jim rebuked him quietlyfor using such language there, whereupon the man turned upon him with acoarse insult and, misunderstanding the Preacher's gentleness, struckhim a vicious blow, which Jim only partly warded off. "If you do thatagain, we may have to put you out," said Jim, inwardly boiling under thedouble insult. Fortunately, the man's friends interfered now and got thefellow away. For this Jim was most thankful. Afterward, he rejoicedstill more that he had restrained himself; and he knew Belle would flushwith pride at this victory over self, this proof of a growingself-control.
Another week went by and again came word that Belle could not return forperhaps ten days at the earliest. A dozen broils that Jim had beenpostponing for Belle to arbitrate had now to be considered. Dr. MaryMudd was the leader of an indignant party of women to complain thatthough the men were not more in numbers than the women they hadappropriated sixty out of the one hundred coat hangers.
Rippe, the tailor, was there to complain that Dr. Mary Mudd alwayswalked up the middle of the stairs, unlawfully delaying the traffic,instead of keeping the proper right side. With his outstretched arms, heillustrated the formidable nature of the barrier. Dr. Mudd retorted thatsaid Rippe had repeatedly smoked in the ladies' room, etc., etc. Butthese were small matters easily adjusted. Two, much more serious, cameon him in one day.
First, he yielded to the temptation of having a beautiful banner hung onthe wall, because it was contributed and very decorative. It bore alegend, "No popery." This was much in line with his private views, butit made a great stir and cost them a score of members, as well asincurring the dislike of Father O'Hara, hitherto friendly. His secondblunder was to allow the cook in the restaurant to put scraps of pork inthe soup, thereby raising a veritable storm among the many keen debatersof the kosher kind, and causing the resignation of Skystein from theboard--temporarily at least.
It would have been much to Jim's taste to have an open war with FatherO'Hara and his flock. His Ulster blood was ready for just such a row.And in his heart he believed pork and beans quite the best of foods. Buthis opinions were not law; he had been learning many things. Others hadrights; and he won the disaffected back, one by one, by recognizing thejustice of their claims and by making kindly personal calls on each ofthem.
Thus Jim Hartigan got a new knowledge of his own endowment anddiscovered unsuspected powers. He had held his peace and triumphed in anumber of trying situations that two or three years before would haveended in an unprofitable brawl. He had controlled his temper, that was astep forward and he was learning to control those about him as well asmanage an organization. He had begun to realize his _prejudices_ and tolearn to respect the beliefs of others even when he thought them wrong.The memory of Father Cyprian and th
e Sioux boy had helped him to dealkindly and respectfully with Skystein and Father O'Hara.
Strange to say, it was a travelling Hindu who supplied him with thebiggest, broadest thought of all. This swarthy scholar was deeply imbuedwith the New Buddhism of Rammohan Roy and, when asked for his opinion ofsome Romanist practices, he remarked softly, but evasively, "My religionteaches me that if any man do anything sincerely, believing that therebyhe is worshipping God, he _is_ worshipping God and his action must betreated with respect, so long as he is not infringing the rights ofothers."
Jim took a long walk by the lake that day and turned over and over thatsaying of the Hindu in the library. The thing had surprised him--first,because of the perfect English in the mouth of a foreigner, andsecondly, because of the breadth and tolerance of the thought. Hewondered how he could ever have believed himself open-minded or fairwhen he had been so miserably narrow in all his ideas. Where was heheaded? All his early days he had been taught to waste effort onscorning the ceremonials great and small of Jews, Catholics, yes, ofBaptists even; and now the heathen--to whom he had once thought of goingas a missionary--had come to Chicago and shown him the true faith.
Striding at top speed, he passed a great pile of lumber and sawdust. Thefresh smell of the wet wood brought back Links--and his mother, and asense of happiness, for he had given up "trying to reason it all out."He was no longer sure, as he once was, that he had omniscience for hisguide. Indeed he was sure only of this, that the kindest way is the onlyway that is safe.
There was daylight dawning in his heart, and yet, across that dawn therewas a cloud which grew momentarily more black, more threatening.Paradoxical as it seemed, Jim was intensely unhappy over the abandonmentof the ministerial career. The enduring force of his word as a man wasonly another evidence of the authentic character of that deep emotionaloutburst which had pledged him openly to the service of Christ. The workat the Cedar Mountain House for a while satisfied the evangelical hungerof his ardent soul. It was good, it was successful, it was increasing inscope; but of its nature it could never be more than secular; it wassocial work in its best form--that was all. The work of which hedreamed, and to which he had consecrated his life was the preaching ofthe Gospel, and, as the months passed, an unrest--the like of which hehad hardly known--took possession of him. These last weeks of Belle'sabsence had brought on one of his periodic soul-searchings and the gloomof it was as thick as a fog when the mail brought word of Belle'sreturn. As he sat with her letter in his hand his mind went back to thehills and the free days and he longed to go back--to get away from theponderous stolidity of this pavement world.
He met her at the station and her joyousness was as a shock to him. Andyet, how hungry he was for every least word of that lost life.
"Oh, Jim, it was glorious to ride again, to smell the leather and thesagebrush. I just loved the alkali and the very ticks on the sagebrush.I didn't know how they could stir one's heart."
His eye glowed, his breath came fast, his nostrils dilated and, as Bellelooked, it seemed to her that her simple words had struck far deeperthan she meant.
"And the horses, which did you ride?" he queried. "How is Blazing Star?Are they going to race at Fort Ryan this year? And the Bylow boys, andthe Mountain? Thank God, men may come and go, but Cedar Mountain willstand forever." He talked as one who has long kept still--as one whosethoughts long pent have dared at length to break forth.
And Belle, as she listened, saw a light. "He is far from forgetting thelife of the Hills," she said to herself as she watched him. "He iskeener than ever. All this steadfast devotion to club work is thedevotion of duty. Now I know the meaning of those long vigils, thosewalks by the lake in the rain--of his preoccupation. His heart is inCedar Mountain." And she honoured him all the more for that he had neverspoken a word of the secret longing.