The Miller Of Old Church

the small public house known to its frequenters as Bottom's Ordinary. Standing where the three roads meet at the old turnpike-gate of the county, the square brick building, whic

creeper and innumerable nesting sparrows in spring. After pointing heavenward for half a century, the steeple appeared to have swerved suddenly from its purpose, and to invite now the attention of the wayfarer to the bar beneath. This cheerful room which sprouted, like some grotesque wing, from the right side of the chapel, marked not only a utilitarian triumph in architecture,

Ordinary had always been ruled by a woman, and it would continue to be so, please God, however loudly a mere Ming might protest to the contrary. In the eyes of her neighbours, a female, right or wrong, was always a female, and this obvious fact, beyond and above any natural two-sided jars of wedlock, sufficed in itself to establish Mrs. Ming as a conjugal martyr. Being an amiable body-peaceably disposed to every living creature, wit

in so unlikely a place as Kingdom Come. He's talkin' to old Adam Doolittle now," she added, for the information of the maid, who, being of a curious habit of

Miss Betsey, I'se got m

n't hear if I stood an' listened forever. It's about

ht shone through the boughs of a giant mulberry tree near the well, and beyond this the Virginian forest, brilliant wi

yond them a few steps out of the forest, one found a low hill, on which the reaped corn stood in stacks like weapons of a vanished army, while across the sunken road, the abandoned fields, overgrown with broomsedge and life-everlasting, spread for several miles between "wor

is spirits, he turned to an ancient countryman, wearing overalls of blue j

rdan's Journey, or must I fo

Adam, are yo

ghted eyes that glanced over his shoulder as if in fear of pursuit, shuffled

if thar's a short cut

ourney," h

the explanation, withdrew it at the end, and thrust out his lower

d pine a half a mile on," he replied, "but tha

ar, an' the bars was

ars whether they be public or private, an' the man that pulls 'em down without put

as he tries to get us to call him, about false doctrine an' evil practice. 'The difference between sprinklin' and immersion ain't jest the difference between a few drips on the head an' goin' all under, Mr. Mullen,' I said, 'but 'tis the whole differ

I've never made up my own mind quite clear on those two p'ints-but I do say, be he immersed or

s a gal," put in youn

toward the low gr

ented Solomon, "for she is a light-minded one,

trough beside which he was standing, and his eyes-of a peculi

hadn't closed the eyes of old Mr. Jonathan when he was found dead over yonder by the Poplar Spring, I'd a

young man, with a furtive displeasure in his voice, as if he allu

done, pure murder ain't a peaceable, comfortable kind of thing to believe in when thar's only one Justice of the Peace an' he bed-ridden since Christmas. When you ax me to pin my faith on any p'int, be it for this world or the next, my first question consarnin' it is whether that particular p'int happens to be pleasant. 'Tis that little small argyment of mine that has confounded

t let him rest comfortable," remarked young Adam, in an apologetic aside. "It's

ad than go under all over. A nice-mannered man he is, with a pretty face, an' some folks hold it to be a pity that we can't change our ideas about baptism and become Episcopals in our hearts, jest to oblige

time of trouble. I go to Mr. Mullen's church regular every Sunday, seein' the Baptist one is ten miles off an' the road heavy, but in my opinion he's a bit

," explained young Adam, "an' when Mr. Mullen came, he took it aw

comes to crops or the weather I am firm fixed enough in my

him from bein' a heathen," observed young Adam in awe-stricke

kled the elder. "The over earnest, like the women folk, are better not handled at all or handled techil

ed his son. "He's bringin' over Mrs. Bottom'

as he used to sing the doxology. I declar his voice boomed out so in my ears last Sunday that I was obleeged to put up my hands to keep 'em from splittin'. Have you ever marked, Mr. Doolittle, havin' had the experi

al'ays the sort that could measure nothin' less than a bushel. The pity with big-

utumnal sadness that one finds, occasionally, in the eyes of the imaginative rustic. He wore a pair of sheepskin leggins into which the ends of his corduroy trousers were stuffed slightly below the knees. His head was bare, and from the open neck of his blue flannel shirt, faded from m

from the low grounds," remarked Solomon, w

"Yonder comes Reuben Merryweather's wagon now, laden with fodder. Is t

r, who else?" resp

a pink sunbonnet on her shoulders, and the light wind, which drove in gusts from the river, blowing the bunch of clustering brown curl

sick folks an' children an' animals are consarned, but she acts as if men war born without common feelin's of natur a

ownright disproof of God's providence and

rts as can equal you on the Scriptures, as I've said over an' over agin. It's good luck for

tion of the body, an' blowed it to atoms in his presence. 'Now thar's Reuben Merryweather who buried one leg at Manassas, Mr. Mullen,' I said as pleasant an' natchel as if I warn't about to confound him, 'an' what I'd like to have made clear an' easy to me, suh, is what use the Almighty is goin' to make of that odd leg on the Day of Jedgment? Will he add a new one onto Reuben,' I axed, 'when, as plain as logic wil

commented Solomon, "an' what a

d to his mouth, and he

y, Solomon, so I spar

made a single stride toward her. Then her glance passed to the stranger, and for an instant she held his gaze with a pair of eyes that appeared to reflect his in shape, setting and col

he turned back, with a scowl on his forehead, whil

me to beware of 'em is in yo' youth befo' they've bewitched yo'. Why, 'tis only sin

it ain't in the natur of man or beast to stand out agin her. Why, if it had been anybody else but the

about the business," responded Solomon, "but, good Lord, 'tain't fur me to wish it different, seein' it only bears out all I've argur

ugh I'm sound on the doctrines-in practice I sometimes backslide. I'm than

ly Merryweather that draws the eye

who swung round upon him with the smothered retort, "That's a lie!" The boyish face of the young countryman had paled under his sunbur

n't meanin' no particular disrespec

' any harm to you nor to the gal either. With half the county courtin' h

retorted the miller, "for she marrie

tride the bare back of the mare, and started

l of Reuben Merryweather's ain't h

omen when they don't pick up every virtue that we throw away, but what's to be expected of 'em, I ax, when all the men sence Adam have been praisin' the sober kind of gal while they was runnin' arter the silly? Thar're som

a deal of larnin' to do befo' he'll rest content to b

olomon, "slow an' peaceable an' silent until you rouse 'em, bu

el the head of the family

ever that may be, befo' the war thar warn't no place for sech as them, an' 'tis only since times have changed an' the bottom begun to press up to the top that anybody has heerd of 'em. Abel went to school somehow by hook or crook an' got a good bit of book larnin', they say, an' then he came back here an' went to turnin' up every stone an' stick on the place. He ploughed an' he sowed an' he reaped till he'd saved up enough to buy that pie

n that escaped the ears of old Adam. "But what of the miller's little swe

nder the sunken flesh. One of his gnarled old hands, trembling and red, clutched the clay bowl of his pipe; the other, with the callous skin of the palm showing under the bent fingers, rested half open on the leather patch that covered t

e was overseer at Jordan's Journey, you know, durin' the old gentleman's lifetime, after the last Jor

s tone caused the strange

ther-who was s

iller among 'em, that dropped dead out with the old minister-that was befo' Mr. Mullen's time-for not wantin' her to be laid in the churchyard. A hard case, doubtless, but a pious man

stranger, with a sound as if

any. That may be goin' agin natur, suh, but 'tis s

sprang into the saddle, and started, as the miller had done, over the three roads into the turnpike. Remembering as he passed the gate posts that he had spoke